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ON  THE 


Science  and  Art  of  Education. 


WITH  OTHER  LECTURES  AND  ESSAYS. 


BY  THE  LATE 


JOSEPH  PAYNE. 


THE  FIRST  PROFESSOR  OF  THE  SCIENCE  AND    ART  OF  EDUCATION   IN 
THE   COLLEGE  OF  PRECEPTORS,   OF   LONDON. 


BEADING  CLUB  EDITION. 


INDEXED   BY  HEADLINES,   AND   WITH   FULL  ANALYSES. 


By    C.    ^A/.     BARDEEN 


SYRACUSE,    N.  Y.  : 

C.  W.  BARDEEN,  PUBLISHER. 

1885. 


Gopyriglit,  1885,  by  C.  W,  Bardbbn. 


THE  FOLLOWIIS^G  BOOKS, 

FEEQUENTLY  REFERRED  TO  IN   THIS   VOLUME,  MAY  BE  HAD 
OF  THE  PUBLISHER  AT  THE  PRICES  ANNEXED. 

Quick's  "Essays  on  Educational  Roformers," $  1.50 

(See  pp.  61,  110,  129,  130,  183,  231,  243.) 

Wilson's  "On  Teaching  Natural  Science  in  Schools," 25 

{See  pp.  140,220.) 
Youman's  " Culture  demanded  by  Modern  Life,"... 2.00 

(See  pp.  62.) 
Youmanss's  "  First  Book  in  Botany," .75 

"          "  Second  Book  in  Botany,". 1.30 

(See  pp.  218,  245.) 

Fitch's  "Lectures  on  Teaching," 1.25 

(See  p.  80.) 

Ascham's  "The  Schoolmaster,"     Reprint .50 

(See  pp.  123-128.) 

Krlisi's  "Life  and  Work  of  Pestalozzi," .. 1.50 

(See  pp.  231.) 

Rousseau's  "  Emile,"  in  French _  1.00 

The  Same,  translated,  2  vols.,  8vo, 10.00 

3  or  4  vols.,  16mo, 5.00 

"         "                "          abridged, ._  1.00 

Pestalozzi's  "Leonard  and  Gertrude,"  trans.,  abridged, 1.00 

Address,        C.  W.  BARDEEN.  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 


{FhiU  Analyses  loill  be  found  at  the  dose  of  each  chapter.) 

PAGE 

Preface -  -  - - -  - iv 

Introduction,  by  the  Rev.  R.  H.  Quick vi 

Obituary  Notice... xii 

The  Science  and  Art  of  Education -   17 

The  Theory  or  Science  of  Education 49 

The  Practice  or  Art  of  Education 86 

Educational  Methods 116 

Principles  of  the  Science  of  Education. _. 156 

Theories  of  Teaching,  with  their  Corresponding  Practice 165 

The  Importance  of  the  Training  of  the  Teacher. 189 

The  True  Foundation  of  Object-Teaching 211 

Pestalozzi:  the  Influence  of  his  Principles  and  Practice  on 

Elementary  Education. 228 

(See  also  pp.  130-137.) 
Froebel  and  the  Kindergarten  System  of  Elementary  Educa- 
tion  254 


111 


PREFACE 

BY    THE    AMERICAN    EDITOR. 


The  wide  adoption  of  this  portion  of  Joseph  Payne's 
addresses  as  a  manual  for  Reading  Circles  among  teach- 
ers, has  led  to  frequent  complaint  that  long  paragraphs, 
repetitions,  and  different  analyses  at  different  times  of 
the  same  subject,  have  made  it  difficult  thoroughly  to 
master  the  editions  already  published. 

Accordingly  I  have  prepared  this  new  edition  with 
these  features: 

(1)  The  pages  are  indexed  by  head  lines,  the  left- 
hand  giving  the  title  of  the  lecture,  and  the  right-hand 
giving  the  particular  topic  under  discussion. 

(2)  Each  lecture  is  followed  by  a  somewhat  minute 
analysis,  convenient  not  only  for  review,  but  for  com- 
parison with  treatments  of  the  same  subject  in  other 
lectures. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  this  volume  was  not 
prepared  by  the  author  as  a  text-book,  but  is  simply  a 
compilation  of  addresses  and  papers  delivered  at  differ- 
ent times  and  under  different  circumstances.  Hence 
the  same  truth  is  often  repeated,  not  only  in  different 
expression,  but  with  different  application.  Only  by  an 
intelligent  comparison  of  these  various  statements  can 
Prof.  Payne's  views  be  thoroughly  understood ;  and  for 
this  comparison  these  analyses  are  almost  indispensable. 

The  central  principle  of  Prof.  Payne's  system  stands 


PREFACE.  V 

out  boldly,  and  is  reiterated  at  every  opportunity:  that 
the  pupil  knows  only  what  he  has  discovered  for  him- 
self, and  that  in  this  process  of  discovery  the  teacher  is 
only  a  guide.  A  comparison  of  the  analyses  given  will 
show  how  often  this  truth  is  stated,  and   how  variously 

it  is  demonstrated. 

C.  W.  BARDEEN. 

Syracuse,  April  15,  1885. 


INTEODUOTIOIN^ 

BY    THE    EEV.     R.    H.    QUICK,    AUTHOR    OF     "ESSAYS    ON 
EDUCATIONAL    REFORMERS,"    ETC. 


A  few  words  of  introduction  seem  necessary  to  tell 
the  general  reader  what  it  concerns  him  to  know  about 
the  author  of  this  volume,  and  his  practical  acquaint- 
ance with  education. 

At  an  early  age  Mr.  Payne  became  an  assistant  in  a 
London  school;  and,  as  he  himself  maintained,  he 
would  have  fallen  into  the  ordinary  groove  of  routine 
teaching  had  he  not  accidentally  become  acquainted 
with  the  princiijles  of  the  French  reformer  Jacotot,  and 
been  fired  with  the  enthusiasm  which  Jacotot  succeeded 
in  kindling  far  and  wide  both  in  his  own  country  and  in 
Belgium.  In  England  Mr.  Payne  was  the  first  (in  im- 
portance, if  not  in  time)  of  Jacotot's  disciples;  and 
finding  that  the  new  principles  entirely  changed  his 
notion  of  the  teacher's  ofiice,  and  turned  routine  into  a 
course  of  never-ending  experiment  and  discovery,  he 
forthwith  set  about  preaching  the  new  educational 
evangel.  Though  a  very  young  man  and  with  small 
resources,  he  published  an  account  of  Jacotot's  system 
(1830),  and  gave  public  lectures  to  arouse  teachers  to  a 
sense  of  its  importance.  The  system  interested  a  lady, 
who  induced  Mr,  Payne  to  undertake  the  instruction  of 
her  own  children:  and  this  family  became  the  nucleus 
of  a  large  school  under  Mr.  Payne's  management  at 
vi 


MR.    PAYNE    AS    A    REFORMER.  Vll 

Denmark  Hill.  Some  years  afterwards,  Mr.  Payne  es- 
tablished himself  at  the  Mausion  House,  Letlierhead, 
where  he  was  still  very  successful  as  a  schoolmaster, 
and  whei-e  he  acquired  the  means  of  retiring,  after 
thirty  years'  work,  from  the  profession.  In  his  school- 
keeping,  and  in  all  his  undertakings,  even  his  studies, 
Mr.  Payne  was  greatly  assisted  by  his  wife,,  a  lady  who 
had  herself  been  engaged  in  education,  and  who  entered 
into  his  pursuits  with  the  sympathy  of  the  intellect  as 
well  as  of  the  heart,  till  she  was  called  away,  only  a 
few  months  before  her  husband.  Believing  as  I  do  that 
Mr.  Payne's  labors  have  had  and  will  have  a  great  influ- 
ence on  education  in  this  country,  I  feel  bound  to  bear 
this  testimony  to  her  by  whom  he  was  so  greatly  assisted. 
We  have  seen  that  Mr.  Payne  became  early  in  life  an 
enthusiastic  theorist.  We  most  of  us  have  our  enthusi- 
asms when  we  are  young,  and  teachers  like  other  people, 
at  first  expect  to  do  great  things,  and  make  great  ad- 
vances on  the  practice  of  their  predecessors.  But  as 
they  grow  older  the  enthusiasms  die  out.  All  sorts  of 
concessions  to  use  and  wont  are  enforced  upon  them; 
and  by  degrees  they  find  there  is  much  to  be  said  for 
the  usual  methods.  These  methods  are,  for  the  master 
of  all  events,  the  easiest  ;  and  they  have  this  great 
advantage,  that  they  lead  to  the  expected  results. 
Changes  might  lead  to  unexpected  results,  and  these 
would  not  find  favor  with  parents.  If  we  do  well 
what  other  peoph^  are  doing,  and  doing  in  some  cases 
very  badly,  we  shall  please  everybody;  and  why  not  be 
satisfied  with  that  which  satisfies  our  employers?  In 
this  way  we  find  excuses  for  our  failing  energy,  and  by 
the  time   we  have   experience   enough   to  judge   what 


Alll  INTRODUCTION. 

reforms  are  jjossible,  we  have  settled  down  into  indo- 
lent contentment  with  things  as  they  are.  To  this  law 
of  the  decay  of  enthusiasms  Mr.  Payne's  career  shows 
us  a  striking  exception.  In  early  life  an  interest  in 
principles  had  changed  his  occupation  from  a  dull 
routine  to  an  absorbing  intellectual  pursuit,  and  as  he 
went  on  he  found  that  his  study  of  theory  instead  of 
making  him  "  unpractical "  gave  him  great  practical 
advantages.  His  pupils  did  not  fail  in  ordinary  ac- 
quirements; and  their  memory,  even  for  Latin  Gram- 
mar, was  developed  without  any  assistance  from  the 
cane.  When  I  first  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Payne, 
he  had  retired  from  his  school,  and  I  do  not  know  l;ow 
far  he  succeeded  in  carrying  (nit  his  principles.  That 
they  had  constant  influence  over  him,  no  one  who  knew 
him  would  for  an  instant  doubt;  but  probably,  like  all 
high-minded  men,  he  fell  far  short  of  his  own  ideal. 
But  the  more  he  taught  hiraselt;  and  the  more  he  had  to 
direct  other  teachers,  the  stronger  grew  his  conviction 
that  education  should  be  studied  scientifically,  that 
principles  should  direct  practice,  and  further  that  the 
main  cause  of  weakness  in  our  t^chool  system  lay  in  our 
teacher's  ignorance  of  the  nature  of  their  calling,  and 
of  the  main  truths  about  it  already  established.  The 
consequence  was  that  when  after  many  years  of  labor 
he  found  himself  able  to  spend  his  remaining  days  as  he 
chose,  he  set  to  work  with  an  enthusiasm  and  energy 
and  self-devotion  rarely  found  even  in  young  men,  to 
arouse  teachers  to  a  sense  of  their  deficiencies  and  to  be 
a  jiioneer  in  the  needed  science  of  education.  It  Avas,  I 
believe,  mainly  owing  to  his  influence,  and  to  that  of 
his  friend  Mr.  C.  H.  Lake,  that  the  College  of  Precep- 


MR.    PAYNE  S    WOKK.  ]X 

tors  instituted  an  examination  for  teachers,  the  first 
held  in  the  country.  In  1872,  the  College  took  another 
important  step,  and  uppointed  the  first  English  Profes- 
sor of  tlie  Science  and  Art  of  Education.  The  Profes- 
sor appointed  was  Mr.  Payne,  and  no  man  could  have 
heen  found  with  higher  qualifications.  He  had  always 
been  a  diligent  student,  and  had  much  wider  culture 
than  is  usually  found  in  schoolmasters,  or  indeed  in  any 
class  of  hardworked  men,  and  his  habits  of  reading  and 
writing  now  gave  him  ^-eat  advantages.  But  these 
would  have  been  of  little  avail  had  he  not  possessed  the 
main  requisite  for  the  professorship  as  few  indeed  pos- 
sessed it,  viz.,  a  profound  belief  in  the  present  value 
and  future  |)ossibililies  of  the  Science  of  Education. 
No  work  could  have  been  more  congenial  to  him  than 
endeavoring  to  awaken  in  young  teachers  that  sj^irit  of 
inquiry  into  piiuciples,  which  he  had  found  the  salt  of 
his  own  life  in  the  schoolroom.  And  short  as  his  tenure 
of  the  Professorsliip  unhnppily  proved,  he  succeeded  in 
his  endeavor,  and  left  behind  him  students  who  have 
learnt  from  him  to  make  their  practice  as  teachers  more 
beneficial  to  othei's  and  infinitely  more  pleasurable  to 
themselves,  by  investigating  the  theorj^  which  not  oidy 
explains  right  practice,  but  also  points  out  the  way  to  it. 

That  interest  in  education  as  a  science  and  an  art 
which  was  awakened  by  the  delivery  of  Mr.  Payne's 
lectures,  will  one  day,  I  trust,  be  more  widely  spread  by 
their  publication.  The  papers  in  this  volume  have 
already  appeared  at  different  times,  and  they  are  now 
for  the  first  time  collected.  But  there  are  numerous 
lectures  which  still  remain  in  MS. 

M]-.  Payne  always  spoke  of  Jacotot  as  "his  master," 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

and  in  one  of  the  paradoxes  of  Jacotot  is  contained  the 
principle  which  takes  the  leading  place  in  Mr.  Payne's 
teaching  Jacotot  exposed  himself  to  the  jeers  of 
schoolmasters  by  asserting  that  a  teacher  who  under- 
stood his  business  could  "  teach  what  he  did  not  know." 
By  teacher  is  usually  understood  one  who  communicates 
knowledge.  This  meaning  of  the  word,  however,  Avas 
unsatisfactory  to  Jacotot  and  to  his  English  disciple. 
What  is  knowledge?  Knowledge  is  the  abiding  result 
of  some  action  of  the  mind.  '  Whoever  causes  the  mind 
of  pupils  to  take  the  necessary  action  teaches  the  pupils, 
and  this  is  the  only  kind  of  teaching  which  Mr.  Payne 
would  hear  of.  Tlius  we  see  that  Jacotot's  paradox 
points  to  a  new  conception  of  the  teacher's  function. 
The  teacher  is  not  one  who  "tells,"  but  one  who  sets 
the  learner's  mind  to  v/ork,  directs  it  and  regulates  its 
rate  of  advance.  In  order  to  "tell,"  one  needs  nothing 
beyond  a  form  of  words  which  the  pupils  may  repro- 
duce with  or  without  comprehension.  But  to  "teach," 
in  Mr.  Payne's  sense  of  the  word,  a  vast  deal  more  was 
required,  an  insight  into  the  working  of  the  pupil's 
mind,  a  power  of  calling  its  activities  into  play,  and  of 
directing  them  to  the  needful  exercise,  a  perception  of 
results,  and  a  knowledge  how  to  render  those  results 
permanent.  Such  was  Mr.  Payne's  notion  of  the  teach- 
er's ofllice,  and  this  notion  lies  at  the  root  of  all  that  he 
said  and  wrote  about  instruction.  It  would  be  useless 
to  attenipt  to  decide  how  far  the  conception  was  origi- 
nal with  him.  "  Everything  reasonable  has  been  thought 
already,"  says  Goethe.  Mr.  Payne,  as  we  have  seen, 
was  always  eager  to  declare  his  obligations  to  Jacotot. 
The  same  notion  of  the  teacher  is  found  in  the  utter- 


.TACOTOT  S    PARADOX.  XI 

aoces  of  otiicr  men,  especially  of  Pestalozzi  and  FroebeU 
But  when  such  a  conception  becomes  part  and  parcel  of 
a  mind  like  Mr.  Payne's,  it  forthwith  becomes  a  fresh 
force,  and  its  influence  spreads  to  others. 

To  elevate  the  teacher's  conception  of  his  calling  was 
the  task  to  wbich  Mr.  Payne  devoted  the  latter  years  of 
his  iife;  but  those  who  knew  him  best,  desire  to  see 
his  influence  extended  by  this  and  other  publications  of 
his  writings,  that  he  may  still  be  a  worker  in  the  cause 
which  he  had  at  heart. 

January,  1880.  R.  H.  QUK  K. 


MR.   JOSEPH   PAYNE. 


The  subjoiupd  Obituaiy  Notice  appeared  shortly  after  Mr.  Payne's 
death,  in  the  Educational  Times  for  June  1st,  1876. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  over-estimate  the  loss  which 
the  cause  of  educational  progress  and  reform  has  sus- 
tained by  the  recent  death  of  Mr.  Joseph  Payne.  At 
the  present  juncture,  when  so  great  an  impetus  has  been 
given  to  popular  education,  and  such  rapid  strides  are 
being  taken,  not  alwaj^s  with  the  clearest  light,  or  in.the 
wisest  direction,  and  when  the  guidance  and  influence  of 
men  of  wide  experience,  careful  thought,  and  untiring 
devotion,  are  more  than  ever  necessary,  few  could  be 
named  whose  place  it  would  be  more  difficult  to  supply. 

Those  who  had  the  privilege  of  knowing  Mr.  Payne 
are  aware  that,  both  as  a  theorist  and  as  a  practical 
teacher,  he  had  made  it  the  business  of  his  life  to  expose 
the  futility  of  the  unintelligent  routine  with  which  edu- 
<3ators  have  too  commonly  contented  themselves,  and  to 
rouse  teachers  to  replace  it  by  methods  which  would  call 
the  expanding  faculties  of  the  young  scholar  into  health- 
ful activity,  which  would  promote  and  regulate  their 
development  by  well-considered  and  sympathetic  guid- 
ance, and  would  direct  their  action  to  the  best  and 
wisest  ends.  In  short,  he  strove  to  make  education  a 
I  reality  instead  of  a  pretence.  With  this  view  he  cou- 
stajitly  insisted  on  the  too  often  forgotten  trutli,  that 
xii 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    KDUCATIOX.  XUI 

the  only  teaching  that  is  \vortl)y  of  the  name  is  that 
which  enables  the  learner  to  teach  himself,  that  which 
awakens  in  hini  the  desire  for  knowledge,  and  guides 
him  by  the  surest  and  readiest  methods  to  its  attainment. 
Such  teaching  proceeds  upon  intelligent  and  scientific 
principles,  and  demands  of  the  teacher  something  differ- 
ent from  the  hum-drum  giving  of  routine  lessons.  As 
the  obvious  corolhiry  of  this,  i\lr.  Payne  urged  upon 
teaebeis  the  necessity  of  mastering  the  true  principles 
that  should  guide  them  in  the  exercise  of  their  profes- 
sion, and  of  rousing  themselves  to  the  perception  of  the 
truth  that  the  teacher  must  learn  how  to  teach,'  that  he 
must  not  only  know  thoroughly  and  fundamentally  that 
which  he  teaches,  but  must  study  well  the  laws  which 
govern  the  exercise  and  development  of  the  faculties  of 
those  whom  he  teaches;  that  he  must  know  both  the 
lesson  and  the  scholar,  and  the  means  by  which  the  two 
may  be  brought  into  fruitful  contact.  These  aims  Mr. 
Payne  pursued  throughout  his  life,  unobtrusively  in- 
deed, yet  with  single-minded  enthusiasm,  and  unswerv- 
ing tenacity  of  purpose. 

Mr.  Payne  was  born  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's  on  the  2d 
of  March,  1808.  His  early  education  was  very  incom- 
plete, and  it  was  not  till  he  was  about  fourteen  years 
old  that,  at  a  school  kept  by  a  Mr.  Freeman,  he  came 
under  the  instruction  of  a  really  competent  teacher. 
This  advantage,  however,  he  did  not  enjoy  very  long. 
At  a  comparatively  early  age  he  was  under  the  necessity 
of  getting  his  own  living,  which  he  did  partly  by  teach- 
ing, partly  by  writing  for  the  press.  His  life  at  this 
period  was  laborious,  and  not  altogether  free  from  pri- 
vations.    He  found  time,  however,  for  diligent  study, 


XIV  OBITUAKY    NOTICE. 

and  numerous  extract  and  common-place  books  testify 
to  the  wide  range  of  his  reading  in  the  ancient  classics 
and  in  English  literature. 

When  he  was  al)Out  twenty  years  of  age  he  became  a 
private  tutor  in  the  family  of  Mr.  David  Fletchei*,  of 
Camberwell.  His  exceptional  aptitude  for  teaching, 
and  his  energetic  devotion  to  study  attracted  the  appre- 
ciation and  sympathy  of  the  mother  of  his  young  pu]nls. 
The  children  of  one  or  two  neighbors  were  admitted  to 
share  the  benefits  of  his  instruction,  and  thus  a  small 
preparatory  school  sprang  up.  Under  his  zealous  and 
able  direction  it  increased  in  numbers  and  consideration, 
till  it  expanded  into  the  importaiit  school  known  as 
"  Denmark  Hill  Grammar  School,"  carried  on  in  a  fine 
old  mansion  (recently  demolislied)  on  Denmark  Hill. 
Here,  in  partnershij)  with  Mr,  Fletcher,  he  continued 
his  labors  for  sorrie  years. 

In  1837  Mr.  Payne  married  Miss  Dyer,  a  lady  who 
was  at  the  head  of  a  girls'  school  of  high  repute,  which 
she  continued  to  carry  on  for  some  time.  In  her  he  had 
the  happiness  of  obtaining,  as  the  partner  of  his  life,  a 
lady  of  great  energy  of  character,  of  tact  and  method 
in  the  conduct  of  affairs,  and  admirably  suited  to  sym-, 
pathize  with  him  in  the  aims  and  ambitions  of  his  life. 

Mr,  Payne's  connection  with  the  school  at  Camber- 
well  continued  till  the  year  1845,  when  he  established 
himself  independently  at  the  Mansion  House,  Lether- 
head.  Here  he  labored  with  great  energy  and  success 
for  about  eighteen  years,  his  school  taking  rank  as  one 
of  the  very  first  private  schools  in  this  country.  In 
1863,  having  acquired  a  modest  competence,  he  with- 
drew from  the  active  cares  of  his  profession.     None  the 


HIS    WORK    FOR    EDUCATION.  XV 

less,  however,  did  he  continue  to  devote  himself  strenu- 
ously to  the  cause  of  educational  proQ;ress.  He  took  a 
lively  and  active  interest  in  several  of  the  most  import- 
ant movements  having  this  for  their  purpose,  such  (for 
example)  as  the  "  Women's  Education  Union,"  and  the 
"■  Public  Girls'  School  Company,"  the  improvement  of 
women's  education  havinj^-  long  been  one  of  his  most 
cherished  objects.  By  lectures,  and  through  the  press, 
and  by  his  active  and  energetic  participation  in  the 
operations  carried  on  by  the  College  of  Preceptors,  he 
still  zealously  pursued  the  great  object  of  his  life — the 
advancement  of  education  by  the  improvement  of  the 
methods,  and  the  elevation  of  the  character  and  status 
of  the  teacher.  The  Kindergarten  system  of  Froebel 
was  one  in  which  he  took  a  keen  interest.  He  studied 
profoundly  the  methods  and  systems  of  all  who  have 
obtained  celebrity  as  educators,  and  Pestalozzi  and  Jaco- 
tot  had  in  him  a  warm  admirer  and  an  able  exjjositor. 
When  a  Professorship  of  the  Science  and  Art  of  Educa- 
tion (the  first  of  its  kind)  was  established  by  the  College 
of  Preceptors,  he  was  unaminously  elected  to  occupy 
that  Chair. 

Throughout  his  life  Mr.  Payne  was  a  hard  student. 
Till  but  a  few  months  before  his  death,  he  was  wont  to 
continue  his  work  into  the  small  hours  of  the  morning. 
He  was  especially  interested  in  the  history  of  the  devel- 
opment of  the  English  language,  and  the  characteristics 
of  the  different  dialects,  and  more  particularly  in  the 
history  of  the  Norman-French  element.  This  led  him 
to  a  rather  extensive  study  of  the  dialects  of  French, 
and  the  history  of  the  French  language  generally.  A 
paper  of  great  value  by  him  on  these  subjects  appears 


XVI  .  OBI'l  ITART    NOTICE. 

in  the  "Transactions  of  the  Pliilohigical  Society,"  of 
which  he  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  active 
members. 

Mr.  Payne's  life  had  been  too  laborionsiy  occupied  to 
leave  time  for  the  composition  of  any  large  literary 
works;  but  his  little  volume  of  "Select  Poetry  for 
Children  "  is  one  of  the  very  best  of  its  class,  and  his 
"  Studies  in  English  Prose,"  and  "  Studies  in  English 
Poetry,"  have  met  with  a  wide  appreciation.  Among 
various  lectures  and  pamphlets  published  by  him,  may 
be  mentioned: — "Three  Lectures  on  the  Science  and 
Art  of  Education,"  delivered  at  the  College  of  Pre- 
ceptors in  1871.  "The  True  Foundation  of  Science 
Teaching,"  a  lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of  Pre- 
ceptors in  1872.  "  The  Importance  of  the  Training  of 
the  Teacher."  "  The  Science  and  Art  of  Education,"  an 
introductory  lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of  Precept- 
ors. "Pestalozzi,"  a  lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of 
Preceptors  in  1875.  "  Froebel  and  the  Kindergarten 
System,"  a  lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of  Precept- 
ors.    "The  Curriculum  of  Modern  Education." 

The  death  of  his  wife,  which  occured  in  the  autumn 
of  last  year,  probably  aggravated  the  symptoms  of  a 
malady  of  some  standing,  which  terminated  on  April 
30th,  1876,  a  life  of  singular  purity  and  nobleness  of 
aim,  of  strenuous  and  unintermitting  industry,  and  of 
unselfish  devotion  to  high  and  M^orthy  ends. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION; 


At  the  beginning  of  last  year,  I  deliverpcl  in  this  room, 
a  lecture  intended  to  inaugurate  the  Course  of  Lectures 
and  Lessons  on  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education,  which 
the  Council  of  the  College  of  Pi-eceptors  had  appointed 
me  to  undertake.  The  experiment  then  about  to  be 
tried  was  a  new  one  in  this  country;  for,  although  we 
have  had  for  some  years  Colleges  intended  to  prepare 
Elementary  Teachers  for  their  work,  nothing  of  the  kind 
existed  for  Middle  Class  and  Higher  Teachers.  As  I 
stated  in  that  Inaugural  Lecture,  the  Council  of  the 
College  of  Preceptors,  after  waiting  in  vain  for  action 
on  the  part  of  the  Government  or  of  the  Universities, 
and  attempting,  also  in  vain,  to  obtain  the  influential 
co-operation  of  the  leading  scholastic  authorities  in  aid 
of  their  object,  resolved  to  make  a  beginning  themselves. 
They  therefore  adopted  a  scheme  laid  before  them  by 
one  of  their  colleagues — a  lady — and  offered  the  First 
Professorship  of  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education  to  me. 

We  felt  that  some  considerable  difficulties  lay  in  the 
way  of  any  attempt  to  realize  our  intentions.  Among 
these,  there  were  two  especially  on  which  I  will  dwell 
for  a  few  minutes.  The  first  was,  the  opinion  very  gen- 
erally entertained  in  this  country,  that  there  is  no 
Science  of  Education,  that  is,  that   there   are  no   fixed 

*  An  Introductory  Lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of  Preceptors,  on 
the  20th  January,  1874. 
B  32 


18  THE    SCIEXCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

principles  for  the  guidance  of  the  Educator's  practice. 
It  is  generally  admitted  that  there  is  a  Science  of  Medi- 
cine,   of   Law,    of  Theology;    but    it   is   7iot   generally 
admitted  there  is  a  corresponding  Science  of  Education, 
The  opinion   that  there  is  no  such  Science  was,  as  we 
know,  courageously  uttered  by  Mr.  Lowe,  but  we  also 
know  that  there  are  hundreds  of  cultivated  professional 
men  in  England,  who  silently  maintain  it,  and  are  prac- 
tically guided  by  it.     These  men,  many  of,  them  distin- 
guished proficients  in  the  Art  of  teaching,  if  you  venture 
to  suggest  to  them  that  there  must  be  a  correlated  Science 
which  determines — whether  they  are  conscious  of  it  or 
not — the  laws  of  their  practice,  generally  by  a  signifi- 
cant smile  let  you  know  their  opinion  both  of  the  subject 
and  of  yourself.     If  they  deign  to  open  their  lips  at  all, 
it  is  to  mutter  something  about  "Pedagogy,"    "frothy 
stuff,"  "  mere  quackery,"*  or  to  tell  you  point-blank  that 
if  there  is  such  a  Science,  it  is  no  business  of  theirs: 
they  do  very  well  without  it.     This  opinion,  which  they 
no  doubt  sincerely  entertain,  is,    liov/ever,   simply  the 
product  of  thoughtlessness  on  their  part.     If  they  had 
carefully  considered  the  subject  in  relation  to  themselves 
— if  they  had  known  the  fact  that  the  Science   which 
they  disclaim  or  denounce  has  long  engaged   the  atten- 
tion of  hundreds  of  the   profoundest  thinkers  of  Ger- 
many— many  of  them  teachers  of  at  least  equal  standing 
to  their  own — who  have  reverently  admitted  its  preten- 

*  It  Is  remarkable  that  the  dictionary  meaning  of  "quack"  is  "a 
boastful  pretender  to  arts  he  does  not  understand,"  so  that  the  asserter 
of  principles  astlie  foundation  of  correct  practice  is  ignorantly  denounced 
as  weak  on  the  very  point  which  constitutes  his  stren^h.  One  may  imag- 
ine the  shouts  of  laughter  with  which  such  a  denunciation  would  be, 
receivedln  an  assembly  of  German  experts  in  education. 


IS   THERE    SUCH    A    SCIENCE?  19 

sions,  and  devoted  their  great  powers  of  mind  to  the 
investigation  of  its  laws,  they  would,  at  least,  have 
given  you  a  respectful  hearing.  But  great,  as  we  know, 
is  the  power  of  ignorance,  and  it  will  prevail — for  a 
time.  There  are,  however,  even  now,  hopeful  signs 
which  indicate  a  change  of  public  opinion.  Only  a 
week  ago,  a  leader  in  the  Times  called  attention  to  Sir 
Bartle  Frere's  conviction  expressed  in  one  of  his  lectures 
in  Scotland,  that  "the  acknowledged  and  growing 
power  of  Germany  is  intimately  connected  with  the 
admirable  education  which  the  great  body  of  the 
German  nation  are  in  the  habit  of  receiving."  The  edu- 
cation of  which  Sir  Bartle  Frere  thus  speaks,  is  the 
direct  result  of  that  very  science  which  is  so  generally 
unknown,  and  despised,  because  unknown,  by  our  culti- 
vated men,  and  especially  by  many  of  our  most  eminent 
teachers.  When  this  educated  power  of  Germany, 
which  has  already  shaken  to  its  centre  the  boasted  mili- 
tary reputation  of  France,  does  the  same  for  our  boasted 
commercial  reputation,  as  Sir  Bartle  Frere  and  others 
declare  that  it  is  even  now  doing,  and  for  our  boasted 
engineering  reputation,  as  Mr.  Mundella  predicts  it  will 
do,  unless  we  look  about  us  in  time,  the  despisers  of  the 
Science  of  education  will  adopt  a  different  tone,  and 
perhaps  confess  themselves  in  error;  at  all  events,  they 
will  betake  themselves  to  a  modest  and  respectful  silence. 
No  later^back  than  yesterday  (January  19)  the  Times  con- 
tained three  letters  bearing  on  Sir  Bartle  Frere's  asser- 
tion that  the  increasing  commercial  importance  of 
Germany  is  due  mainly  to  the  excellence  of  German 
education.  One  writer  refers  to  the  German  Realschulen 
or  Thing-Schools  and  to  the  High  Schools  of  Commerce, 


20  THE    SCIENCK    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

in  both  of  which  the  practical  study  of  matters  bearing 
on  real  life  is  conducted.  Another  writer,  an  Ex-Chair- 
man of  the  Liverpool  Chamber  of  Commerce,  says, — "I 
have  no  hesitation  in  stating  that  young  Germans  make 
the  best  business  men,  and  the  reason  is,  that  they  are 
usually  better  educated ;  I  mean  by  this,  they  have  a 
mure  thorough  education,  which  imparts  to  them  accu- 
racy and  precision.  Whatever  they  do  is  well  and 
accurately  done,  no  detail  is  too  small  to  escape  their 
attention,  and  this  engenders  a  habit  of  thought  and 
mind,  which  in  after  life  makes  them  shrewd  and  thor- 
ough men  of  business.  I  think  the  maintenance  of  our 
commercial  superiority  is  very  much  of  a  schoolmaster's 
question."  A  third  wriier  speaks  of  the  young  German 
clerks  sent  out  to  the  East  as  "infinitely  superior"  in 
education  to  the  class  of  young  men  sent  out  from  Eng- 
land, and  ends  by  saying,  "  Whatever  be  the  cause, 
there  can  be  no  question  that  the  Germans  are  outstrip- 
ping us  in  the  race  for  commercial  superiority  in  the  far 
East." 

Some  persons,  no  doubt,  will  be  found  to  cavil  at 
these  statements;  the  only  comment,  however,  I  think  it 
necessary  to  make  is  this — "  Germany  is  a  country 
where  the  Science  of  Education  is  widely  and  pro- 
foundly studied,  and  where  the  Art  is  conformed  to  the 
Science."  I  leave  you  to  draw  your  own  inferences. 
Without,  however,  dwelling  further  on  this  important 
matter,  though  it  is  intimately  connected  with  my  pur- 
pose, I  repeat  that  this  dead  weight  of  ignorance  in  the 
public  mind  respecting  the  true  claims  of  the  Science  of 
Education,  constitutes  one  of  the  difficulties  witli  which 
we  have  had  to  contend.     The  writer  of  a  leading  arti- 


TEACHERS    TOO    SELF-CONTENTED.  21 

cle  in  tlie  Times,  January  10,  said  emphatically,  "In 
triitli,  iliere  is  nothing  in  which  the  mass  of  Englishmen 
are  so  much  in  need  of  education  as  in  appreciating  the 
value  of  Education  itself."  These  words  contain  a 
pregnant  and  melancholy  truth,  which  will  be  more  and 
more  acknowledged  as  time  moves  on. 

But  there  was  another  difficulty  of  scarcely  less  import- 
ance with  which  we  had  to  contend,  and  this  is  the  con- 
viction entertained  by  the  general  body  of  teachers  that 
they  have  nothing  to  learn  about  Education.  We  are  now 
descending,  be  it  remembered,  from  the  leaders  to  the 
great  band  of  mere  followers,  from  the  officers  of  the 
army  to  the  rankjind  file.  My  own  experience,  it  may 
well  be  believed,  of  teachers,  has  been  considerable.  As 
the  net  result  of  it,  I  car.  confidently  affirm  that  until  I 
commenced  my  class  in  February  last,  I  never  came  in 
contact  with  a  dozen  teachers  who  were  not  entirely 
satisfied  with  their  own  empirical  methods  of  teaching. 
To  what  others  had  written  on  the  principles  of  Educa- 
tion,—-to  what  these  had  reduced  to  successful  practice, 
— they  were,  for  the  most  part,  profoundly  indifferent. 
To  move  onward  in  the  grooves  to  which  they  had  been 
accustomed  in  their  school  days,  or  if  more  intelligent, 
to  devise  methods  of  their  own,  without  any  respect  to 
the  experience,  however  enlightened,  of  others,  was,  and 
is,  the  general  practice  among  teachers.  For  them, 
indeed,  the  great  educational  authorities,  whether  writers 
or  workers,  might  as  well  never  have  existed  at  all.  In 
short,  to  repeat  what  I  said  before,  teachers,  as  a  class 
(there  are  many  notable  exceptions),  are  so  contented 
with  themselves  and  their  own  methods  of  teaching  that 
they  complacently  believe,  and  act  on  the  belief,  that 


22  THE    SCIENCE    AND    AKT    OF    EDUCATION. 

they  have  nothing  at  all  to  learii  from  the  Science  and 
Art  of  Education  ;  and  this  is  much  to  be  regretted  for 
their  own  sakes,  and  especially  for  the  sake  of  their 
pupils,  whose  educational  health  and  well-being  lie  in 
their  hands.  However  this  may  be,  the  fact  is  unques- 
tionable, that  one  of  the  greatest  impediments  to  any 
attempt  to  expound  the  principles  af  Education  lies  in 
tbe  unwarrantable  assumption  on  the  part  of  the  teachers 
that  they  have  nothing  to  learn  on  the  subject.  Here, 
however,  as  is  often  the  case,  the  real  need  for  a  remedy 
is  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  patient's  consciousness  of 
the  need.  The  worst  teachers  are  generally  those  who 
are  most  satisfied  with  themselves,  and  their  own  small 
performances. 

The  fallacy,  not  yet  displaced  from  the  mind  of  the 
public,  on  which  this  superstructure  of  conceit  is  raised, 
is  that  "  he  who  knows  a  subject  can  teach  it."  The 
postulate,  that  a  teacher  should  thoroughly  know  the 
subject  he  professes  to  teach,  is  by  no  means  disputed, 
but  it  is  contended  that  the  question  at  issue  is  to  be 
mainly  decided  by  considerations  lying  on  the  pupil's 
side  of  it.  The  process  of  thinking,  by  which  the  pupil 
learns,  is  essentially  his  own.  The  teacher  can  but  stim- 
ulate and  direct,  he  cannot  supersede  it.  He  cannot  do 
the  thinking  necessary  to  gain  the  desired  result  for  his 
pupil.  The  i)roblem,  then,  that  he  has  to  solve  is  how 
to  get  his  pupil  to  learn  ;  and  it  is  evident  that  he  may 
know  the  subject  without  knowing  the  best  means  of 
making  his  pupil  know  it  too,  which  is  the  assumed  end 
of  all  his  teaching.  He  may  be  an  adept  in  his  subject, 
but  a  novice  in  the  art  of  teaching  it — an  art  which  has 
principles,  laws,  and  processes  peculiar  to  itself. 


SCHOLARSHIP    INSUFFICIENT.  23 

But,  again  :  a  man,  profoundly  acquainted  with  a 
subject,  may  be  unapt  to  teach  it  by  reason  of  the  vei'y 
height  and  extent  of  his  knowledge.  His  mind  habitu- 
ally dwells  among  the  mountains,  and  he  has,  therefore, 
small  sympathy  with  the  toiling  plodders  on  the  plains 
below.  The  difficulties  which  beset  their  path  have  long 
ceased  to  be  a  part  of  his  own  experience.  He  cannot 
then  easily  condescend  to  their  condition,  place  himself 
alongside  of  them,  and  force  a  sympathy  he  cannot  nat- 
urally feel  with  their  trials  and  perplexities.  Both 
these  cases  tend  to  the  same  issue,  and  show  that  it  is 
fallacy  to  assert  that  there  is  any  necessary  connection 
between  knowing  a  subject  and  knowing  how  to  teach  it. 

Our  experiment  was  commenced  on  the  6th  of  Feb- 
ruary last.  On  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  only  seven- 
teen teachers  had  given  in  their  names  as  members  of 
the  class  that  was  to  be  formed.  In  the  evening,  how- 
ever, to  my  surprise,  I  found  no  fewer  than  tifty-one 
awaiting  the  lecture.  This  nnmbei"  was  increased  in  a 
few  weeks  to  seventy,  and  on  the  whole,  there  have  been 
eighty  members  in  the  course  of  a  year.  Having 
brought  our  little  history  down  to  the  commencement  of 
the  lectures  in  18*73,  I  propose  to  occupy  the  remainder 
of  our  time  with  a  brief  account  of  what  was  intended, 
and  what  has  been  accomplished  by  them. 

Generally  speaking,  the  intention  was  to  show  (1)  that 
there  is  a  Science  of  Education,  that  is,  that  there  arj 
principles  derived  from  the  nature  of  the  mind  which 
furnish  laws  for  the  educator's  guidance  ;  (2)  that  there 
is  an  Art  founded  on  the  Science,  which  will  be  efficient 
or  inefficent  in  proportion  to  the  educator's  conscious 
knowledge  of  its  principles. 


24  THE    SCIEXCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

It  will  be,  perhaps,  remembered  by  some  now  present, 
that  I  gave  in  my  Inaugural  Lecture  a  sketch  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  I  intended  to  treat  these  subjects.  As, 
however,  memories  are  often  weak,  and  require  to  be  hu- 
mored, and  as  repetition  is  the  teacher's  sheet-anchor,  I 
may,  perhaps,  be  excused  if  I  repeat  some  of  the  matter 
then  brought  forward,  and  more  especially  as  I  may  cal- 
culate that  a  large  proportion  of  my  audience  were  not 
present  last  year. 

I  had  to  consider  how  I  should  treat  the  Science  of 
Education,  especially  in  relation  to  such  a  class  as  I  was 
likely  to  have.  It  was  to  be  expected  that  the  class 
would  consist  of  young  teachers  unskilled  in  the  art  of 
teaching,  and  perhaps  even  more  unskilled  in  that  of 
thinking.  Such  in  fact  they,  for  the  most  part,  proved 
to  be.  No  IV  the  Science  of  Education  is  a  branch  of 
Psychology,  and  both  Education  and  Psychology,  as 
sciences,  may  be  studied  either  deductively  or  induct- 
ively. We  may  commence  with  general  propositions, 
and  work  downward  to  the  facts  they  represent,  or  up- 
ward from  the  facts  to  the  general  proj5ositions.  To 
students  who  had  been  mainly  occupied  with  the  con- 
crete and  practical,  it  seemed  to  me  much  better  to 
commence  with  the  concrete  and  practical  ;  with  facts, 
rather  than  with  abstractions.  But  what  facts  ?  That 
was  the  question.  There  is  no  doubt  that  a  given  art 
contains  in  its  practice,  for  eyes  that  can  truly  see,  the 
principles  which  govern  its  action.  The  reason  for  do- 
ing may  be  gathered  from  the  doing  itself.  If,  then, 
we  could  be  quite  sure  beforehand  that  perfect  speci- 
mens of  practical  teaching  based  on  sound  principles, 
were  accessible,  we  might  have  set  about  studying  them 


NOT   TO    BE    EVOLVKD   FROM   PltACTlCE.  25 

carefully,  with  a  view  to  elicit  the  principles  which  un- 
derlie the  ))r:ictice,  and  in  this  way  we  might  have  ar- 
rived at  a  Science  of  Education.  But  then  this  involves 
the  whole  question — Who  is  to  guarantee  dogmatically 
the  absolute  soundness  of  a  given  method  of  teaching, 
and  if  any  one  comes  forward  to  do  this,  who  is  to  guar- 
antee the  soundness  of  his  judgment? 

It  appears,  then,  that  although  we  might  evolve  the 
principles  of  medicine  from  the  general  practice  of 
medicine,  or  the  principles  of  engineering  from  the  gen- 
eral practice  of  engineering,  we  cannot  evolve  the  prin- 
ciples of  education  from  the  general  practice  of  education 
as  we  actually  find  it.  So  much  of  that  jDractice  is  radically 
and  obviousl}'^  unsound,  so  little  of  sequence  and  co-ordi- 
nation is  there  in  its  prtrts,  eo  aimless  generally  is  its 
action,  that  to  search  for  the  Science  of  Education  in  its 
ordinary  present  practice  would  be  a  sheer  waste  of 
time.  We  should  find,  for  instance,  the  same  teacher 
acting  one  day,  and  with  regard  to  one  subject,  on  one 
principle,  and  another  day,  or  with  regard  to  another 
subject,  on  a  totally  different  principle,  all  the  time  for- 
getting that  the  mind  really  has  but  one  method  of 
learning  so  as  really  to  know,  though  multitudes  of 
methods  may  be  framed  for  giving  the  semblance  of 
knowing.  We  see  one  teacher  who  is  never  satisfied  un- 
til he  secures  his  pupils'  possession  of  clear  ideas  upon  a 
given  subject  ;  another  who  will  let  them  go  off  with 
confused  and  imperfect  ideas  ;  and  a  third,  who  will 
think  his  duty  dune  when  he  has  stuffed  them  with  mere 
words — with  husks  instead  of  grain.  It  is  then  perfect- 
ly clear  that  we  cannot  deduce  the  principles  of  true 
science  from  varying  practice  of    this   kind  ;  and   if  we 


26  THE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

confine  ourselves  to  inferences  drawn  from  sncli  prac- 
tice, we  shall  never  know  what  the  Science  of  Educa- 
tion is.  Having  thus  shut  ourselves  off  from  dealing 
with  the  subject  by  the  high  a^n'or/ method,  commenc- 
ing with  abstract  principles,  and  also  from  the  unsatis- 
factory method  of  reference  founded  on  various,  but 
generally  im|)erfect,  practice  ;  and  being  still  resolved, 
if  possible,  to  get  down  to  a  solid  foundation  on  which 
we  might  build  a  frabric  of  science,  we  were  led  to  in- . 
quire  whether  any  system  of  education  is  to  be  found, 
constant  and  consistent  in  its  working,  by  the  study  of 
which  we  might  reach  the  desired  end.  On  looking 
round  we  saw  that  there  is  such  a  system  continually  at 
work  under  our  very  eyes, — one  which  secures  definite 
results,  in  the  shape  of  positive  knowledge,  and  trains 
to  habit  the  powders  by  which  these  results  are  gained, 
— which  cannot  but  be  consistent  Avith  the  general  na- 
ture of  things,  because  it  is  Nature's  own.  Here,  then, 
we  have  what  we  were  seeking  for — a  system  working 
harmoniously  and  consistently  towards  a  definite  end, 
and  securing  positive  results — a  system,  too,  strictly 
educational,  whether  we  regaixl  the  development  of  the 
faculties  employed,  or  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  as 
accompanying  the  development — a  system  in  which  the 
little  child  is  the  Pupil  and  Nature  the  educator. 

Having  gained  this  stand-point,  and  with  it  a  convic- 
tion that  if  we  could  only  understand  this  great  educa- 
tor's method  of  teaching  and  see  the  true  connection 
between  the  means  he  emjjloys  and  the  end  he  attains, 
we  should  get  a  correct  notion  of  what  is  really  meant 
by  education  ;  we  next  inquire,  "How  are  we  to  proceed 
for   this   purpose?"     The    answer  is,  by   the    method 


INVESTIGATION    OF    NATUKE's    SYSTEM.  27 

tlirougli  which  other  truths  are  ascertained — by  investi- 
gation. We  must  do  what  the  chemist,  the  physician, 
the  astronomer  do,  when  they  study  their  resi:>ective  sub- 
jects. We  must  examine  into  the  facts,  and  endeavor 
to  ascertain,  first,  what  they  are  ;  secondly,  what  they 
mean.  Tlie  bodily  growth  of  the  child  from  l)irth  is,  for 
instance,  a  fast,  which  we  can  all  observe  for  ourselves. 
What  does  it  mean  '?  It  means  lliat,  under  certain 
external  influences — such  as  air,  light,  food — the  child 
increases  in  material  bulk  and  in  physical  power  ;  that 
these  influences  tend  to  integration,  to  the  forming  of  a 
whole;  that  they  are  all  necessary  for  that  purpose;  that 
the  withholding  of  any  one  of  them  leads  to  disintegra- 
tion or  the  breaking  up  of  the  whole.  But  as  we  con- 
tinue to  observe,  we  see,  moreover,  evidences  of  mental 
growth.  We  witness  the  birth  of  consciousness  ;  we  see 
the  mind  answering,  through  the  sense,  to  the  call  of  the 
external  world,  and  giving  manifest  tokens  that  impres- 
sions are  both  received  and  retained  by  it.  The  child 
"  takes  notice  "  of  objects  and  actions,  manifests  feelings 
of  pleasure  or  pain  in  connection  with  them  and  indi- 
cates a  desire  or  w^ill  to  deal  in  his  own  way  with  the 
objects,  and  to  take  part  in  the  actions.  We  see  that 
this  grow^th  of  intellectual  power,  shown  by  his  increas- 
ing ability  to  hold  intercourse  with  things  about  him,  is 
closely  connected  with  the  growth  of  his  bodily  powers, 
and  we  derive  from  our  observation  one  important  prin- 
ciple of  the  Science  of  Education,  that  mind  and  body  are 
mutually  inter dependeyit,  and  co-operate  in  promoting  growth. 

We  next  observe  that  as  the  baby,  under  the  com- 
bined ijifluences  of  air,  light,  and  food,  gains  bodily 
strength,  he  augments  that  strength  by  continually  exer- 


28  THE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

cising   it  ;  he    uses  the  fuiid  he  has  obtained,  and    by 
using,  makes  it  more.     Exercise  reiterated,  almost  unre- 
mitting ;  unceasing  movement,  apparently  for  its  own 
sake,  as  an  end  in  itself  ;  the  jerking  and  wriggling  in 
the  mother's   arms,  the   putting  forth    of  his   hands  to 
grasp  at  things  near  him,  the  turning  of  the  head  to  look 
at  bright  objects  ;  this  exercise,  these  movements,  con- 
stitute his  very  life.     He  lives  in  them,  and   by  them. 
He  is  urged  to  exercise  by  stimulants  from  without;  but 
the  exercise  itself  brings  pleasure  v/ith  it  {labor  ipsevolup- 
^fls),  is  continued  on  that  account,  and  ends  in  increase 
of  power.     What  applies  to  the  body,  applies  also,  by 
the  foregoing  principle,  to  the  intellectual  powers,  which 
grow  with  the  infant's  growth,  and  strengthen  with  his 
strength.     Our  observation  of  these  facts  furnishes   us, 
therefore,  with  a  second  principle  of  education — Faculty 
of  whatever  hind  grows  hy  exercise.     Without  changing   our 
ground  we  supplement  this  principle   by  another.     We 
see  that  the  great  educator  who  prompts  the  baby  to 
exercise,  and  connects  pleasure  with   all  his  voluntary 
movements,  makes  the  exercise  effectual  for  the  i^urpose 
in  view  by  constant  reiteration.     Perfection  in  action  is 
secured  by  repeating  the  action  thousands  of  times.    The 
baby  makes  the  same  movements  over  and  over  again  ; 
the  muscles  and  the  nerves  learn  to  work  together,  and 
habit  is  the  result.     Similarly  in  the  case  of  the  mind, 
the  impressions   communicated   through   the  organs  of 
sense  grow  from  cloudy  to  clear,  from  obscure  to  defi- 
nite, by  dint  of  endless  repetition  of  the  functional  act. 
By  the  observation  of  these  facts  we  arrive  at  a  third 
principle  of  education : — Exercise  invoices  repetition,  which,  as 
regards  bodily  actions,  ends  in  habits  of  action,  and  as  regards^ 


PRIXCIPLES    LEARNED    FROM    NATURE.  29 

impressions  received  by  the  mind,  ends  in  clearness  of  perception. 

Looking  still  at  our  baby  as  he  pursues  his  education, 
we  see  that  this  manifold  exercise  is  only  apparently  an 
end  in  itself.  The  true  purpose  of  the  teaching  is  to 
stimulate  the  pupil  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and 
to  make  all  these  varied  movements  subservient  to  that 
end.  This  exercise  of  faculty  brings  the  child  into 
contact  with  the  properties  of  matter,  initiates  him  into 
the  mysteries  of  hard  and  soft,  heavy  and  light,  etc., 
the  varieties  of  form,  of  round  and  flat,  circular  and 
angular,  etc.,  the  attractive  charms  of  color. 

All  this  is  knowledge  gained  by  reiterated  exercise 
of  the  faculties,  and  stored  up  in  the  mind  by  its  reten- 
tive powder.  We  recognize  the  baby  as  a  practical 
inquirer  after  knowledge  for  its  own  sake.  But  we 
further  see  him  as  a  discoverer,  testing  the  properties  of 
matter  by  making  his  own  experiments  npon  it.  He 
knocks  the  spoon  against  the  basin  which  contains  his 
food;  he  is  pleased  with  the  sound  produced  by  his 
action,  and  more  than  pleased,  delighted,  if  the  basm 
breaks  under  the  operation.  He  throws  his  ball  on  the 
ground,  and  follows  its  revolution  with  his  enraptured 
eye.  What  a  wonderful  experiment  it  is !  How 
charmed  he  is  with  the  effect  he  has  produced!  He 
repeats  the  experiment  over  and  over  again  with  un- 
wearied as.siduity.  The  child  is  surely  a  Newton,  or  a 
Farady,  in  petticoats.  No,  he  is  simply  one  of  nature's 
ordinary  pupils,  inquiring  after  knowledge,  and  gaining 
it  by  his  own  unaided  powers.  He  is  teaching  himself, 
under  the  guidance  of  a  great  educator.  His  self-teach- 
ing ends  in  development  and  growth,  and  it  is  therefore 
strictly  educational  in  its  nature.     In  view  of  these  facts 


30  THE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

we  gain  a  fourth  principle  of  the  Science  of  Education. 
The  exercise  of  the  chi^s  own  powers,  stimulated  but  not  super- 
seded ly  the  educator''s  interference,  ends  loth  in  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge  and  in  the  invigoration  of  the  powers  for  further 
acquisition. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  give  further  illustrations  of  our 
method.  Every  one  will  see  that  it  consists  essentially 
in  the  observation  and  investigation  of  facts,  the  most 
important  of  which  is  that  we  have  before  us  a  pupil 
going  through  a  definite  system  of  education.  We  are 
convinced  that  it  is  education,  because  it  develops  fac- 
ulty, and  therefore  conduces  to  development  and  growth. 
By  close  observation  we  detect  the  method  of  the  master, 
and  see  that  it  is  a  method  which  repudiates  cramming 
rules  and  definitions,  and  giving  wordy  explanations,  and 
secures  the  pupil's  utmost  benefit  from  the  work  by 
making  him  do  it  all  himself  through  the  exercise  of  his 
unaided  powers.  We  thus  get  a  clue  to  the  construction 
of  a  Science  of  Education,  to  be  built  up,  as  it  were,  on 
the  organized  compound  of  body  and  mind,  to  which  we 
give  the  name  of  baby.  Continuing  still  our  observa- 
tion of  the  phenomena  it  manifests,  first,  in  its  speech- 
less, and  afterwai-ds  in  its  speaking  condition,  we  gain 
other  principles  of  education;  and  lastly,  collegating  and 
generalizing  our  generalizations,  we  arrive  at  a  defini- 
tion of  education  as  carried  on  by  Nature.  This  may 
be  roughly  expressed  thus: — Natural  education  consists  in 
the  development  and  training  of  the  learner'' s  powers,  through  iti- 
fluetices  of  various  kinds,  which  are  initiated  hy  action  from 
without,  met  by  corresponding  reaction  from  within. 

Then  assuming,  as  we  appear  to  have  a  right  to  do, 
that  this  natural  education  should  be  the  model  or  type 


EDUCATION    DEFIXED.  31 

of  formal  education,  we  somewhat  modify  our  definition 
thus — 

Edxication  is  the  developnent  and  training  of  the  learner's 
native  powers  hy  means  of  instruction  carried  on  through  the 
conscious  and  persistent  agency  of  the  formal  educator,  and  de- 
pends upon  the  established  connection  between  the  tvorld  without 
and  the  world  within  the  mind  —between  the  objective  and  the 
subjective. 

I  am  aware  that  tliis  definition  is  defective,  inasmuch 
as  it  ignores — or  appears  to  ignore — the  vast  fields  of 
physical  and  moral  education.  It  will,  however,  serve 
my  present  purpose,  which  is  especially  connected  with 
intellectual  education. 

Having  reached  this  point,  and  gained  a  general 
notion  of  a  Science  of  Education,  we  go  on  to  consider 
the  Art  of  Education,  oi-  the  practical  application  of  the 
Science.  We  are  thus  led  to  examine  the  difference 
between  Science  and  Art,  and  between  Nature  and^  Art. 
Science  tells  us  what  a  thing  is,  and  why  it  is  what  it  is. 
It  deals  therefore  with  the  nature  of  the  thing,  with  its 
relations  to  other  things,  and  consequently  with  the  laws 
of  its  being.  Art  derives  its  rules  from  this  knowledge 
of  the  thing  and  its  laws  of  action,  and  says,  "Do  this 
or  that  with  the  thing  in  order  to  accomplish  the  end 
you  have  in  view.  If  you  act  otherwise  with  it,  you 
violate  the  laws  of  its  being."  Now  the  rules  of  Art 
may  be  carried  out  blindly  or  intelligently.  If  blindly, 
the  worker  is  a  mere  artisan — an  operative  who  follows 
routine,  whose  rule  is  the  rule-of-thumb.  If  intelligent- 
ly, he  is  a  true  artist,  who  not  only  knows  what  he  is 
doing,  but  why  this  process  is  right  and  that  wrong,  and 
who  is  furnished   with  resources  suitable  for  guiding 


32  THE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION, 

norraal,  and  correcting  abnormal,  action.  All  the  opera- 
tions of  the  true  artist  can  be  justified  by  reference  to 
the  principles  of  Science.  But  there  is  also  a  correlation 
between  Nature  and  Art.  These  terms  are  apparently, 
but  not  really,  opposed  to  each  other.  Bacon  long  ago 
pointed  out  the  true  distinction  when  he  said,  Ars  est 
Homo  additus  Nature — Art  is  Nature  with  the  addition  of 
Man — Art  is  Man's  work  added  to  (not  put  in  the  place 
of)  Nature's  work.  Here  then  is  the  synthesis  of  Nature 
and  Man  Avhich  justifies  us  in  saying  that  natural  educa- 
tion is  the  type  or  model  of^formal,  or  what  we  usually 
call,  without  an  epithet,  education,  and  that  the  Art  of 
Teaching  is  the  application  by  the  teacher  of  laws  of 
Science,which  he  has  himself  discovered  by  investigating 
Nature.  This  is  the  key-stone  of  our  position ;  if  this 
is  firm  and  strong,  all  is  firm  and  strong.  Abandon  this 
position  and  you  walk  in  darkness  and  doubt,  not  know- 
ing what  you  are  doing  or  whither  you  are  n'andering 
— at  the  mercy  of  every  wind  of  doctrine. 

The  artist  in  education,  thus  equipped,  is  ready  not 
only  to  work  himself,  but  to  judge  of  the  work  of  others. 
He  sees,  for  instance,  a  teacher  coldly  or  sternly  demand- 
ing the  attention  of  a  little  child  to  some  lesson,  say  in 
arithmetic.  The  child  has  never  been  led  up  gradually 
to  the  point  at  which  he  is.  He  has  none  but  confused 
notions  about  it.  The  teacher,  without  any  attempt  to 
interest  the  child,  without  exhibiting  affection  or  sym- 
pathy towards  him,  hastily  gives  him  some  technical 
directions,  and  sends  him  away  to  profit  by  them  as  he 
may — simply  "  orders  him  to  learu,"  and  leaves  him  to 
do  so  alone.  Our  teacher  says, —"This  transaction  is 
inartistic.     The  element  of  humanity  is  altogethei-  want- 


PRACTICAL    APPLICATIONS.  33 

ing  iu  it.  It  is  uot  in  accorcliincc  with  the  Science  of 
Education;  it  is  a  viohition  of  the  Art.  The  great  edu- 
cator, in  his  leaching,  presents  a  motive  and  an  object 
for  voluntary  action;  und  therefore  excites  attention 
towards  the  object  by  enlisting  the  feelings  in  the 
inquiry.  He  does  not,  it  is  true,  show  sympathy,  because 
he  acts  by  inflexible  rules.  But  the  human  educator,  as 
an  artist,  is  bound  not  only  to  excite  an  interest  in  the 
work,  but  to  sympathize  with  the  worker.  This  teacher 
does  neither.  His  practice  ought  to  exemplify  the  for- 
mula, Ars=Natura-\-Hoyno.  He  leaves  out  both  Natura 
and  Homo.     His  Ars  therefore=0." 

Another  case  presents  itself.  Here  the  teaclier  does 
not  leave  the  child  alone;  on  the  contrary,  is  continually 
"by  his  side.  At  this  moment  he  is  copiously  "  impart- 
ing his  knowledge  "  of  some  subject  to  his  pupil,  whose 
aspect  showa  that  he  is  not  receiving  it,  and  who  there- 
fore looks  puzzle<l.  The  matter,  whatever  it  is,  has  evi- 
dently little  or  no  relation  to  the  actual  condition  of  the 
child's  mind,  in  which  it  finds  no  links  of  association  and 
produces  no  intellectual  reaction,  and  which  therefore 
does  not  co-operate  with  the  teacher's.  He  patiently 
endures,  however,  because  he  cannot  escape  from  it,  the 
down  pouring  of  the  teacher's  knowledge  ;  but  it  is 
obvious  that  he  gains  nothing  from  it.  It  passes  over 
his  mind  as  water  passes  over  a  duck's  back.  The  sub- 
ject of  instruction,  before  unknown,  remains  unknown 
still.  Our  artist  teacher,  looking  on,  pronounces  that 
this  teaching  is  inartistic,  as  not  being  founded  on  Sci- 
ence. "  The  efticiency  of  a  lesson  is  to  be  proved,"  he 
says,  "by  the  part  taken  in  it  by  the  pupil;  and  here 
the  teacher  does  all  the  work,  the  pupil  does  nothing  at 


34  THE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

all.  It  is  the  teacher's  mind,  not  the  learner's  that  is 
engaged  in  it.  Our  great  master  teaches  by  calling  into 
exercise  the  learner  s  powers,  not  by  making  a  display  of 
his  own.  The  child  will  never  learn  any  tiling  so  as  to 
possess  it  for  himself  by  such  teaching  as  this,  which 
accounts  the  exercise  of  his  own  faculties  as  having  little 
or  nothing  to  do  with  the  process  of  learning." 

Once  more;  our  student,  informed  in  the  Science  of 
Education,  watches  a  teacher  who  is  giving  a  lesson  on 
language— say,  on  the  mother  tongue.  This  mother 
tongue  the  child  virtually  knows  how  to  use  already; 
and  if  he  has  been  accustomed  to  educated  society, 
speaks  and  (if  he  is  old  enough  to  write)  writes  it  cor- 
rectly. The  teacher  puts  a  book  into  his  hand,  the  first 
sentence  of  which  is,  "English  grammai-  is  the  art  of 
speaking  and  writing  the  English  language  correctly." 
The  child  does  not  know  what  an  "  art "  is,  nor  what  is 
meant  by  speaking  English  "  correctly."  If  he  is  intel- 
ligent he  wonders  whether  he  speaks  it  "correctly"  or 
not.  As  to  the  meaning  of  "  art,"  he  is  altogether  at 
sea.  The  teacher  is  aware  of  the  perplexity,  and  desir- 
ing to  make  him  i-eally  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
word,  attempts  an  explanation.  "  An  art,"  he  says  (get- 
ting the  definition  from  a  dictionary),  "  is  a  power  of 
doing  something  not  taught  by  Nature."  The  child 
stares  with  astonishment,  as  if  you  were  talking  Greek 
or  Arabic.  What  can  be  meant  by  a  "power" — what 
by  "being  taught  by  Nature"?  The  teacher  sees  that 
his  explanation  has  only  made  what  was  dark  before 
darker  still.  He  attempts  to  explain  his  explanation, 
and  the  fog  grows  thicker  and  thicker.  At  last  he  gives 
it  up,  pronounces  the  child  stupid,  and  ends  by  telling 


PRACTirAL    APPLICATIONS.  35 

him  to  leain  by  rote — that  is,  by  hurdy-gurdy  grind — 
the  uniutelligible  words.  That  at  least  the  child  can  do 
(a  parrot  could  be  taught  to  do  the  same),  and  he  does 
it;  but  his  mind  has  received  no  instruction  whatever 
from  the  lesson — the  intelligence  which  distinguishes 
the  child  from  the  parrot  remains  entirely  uncultivated. 
Our  teacher  proceeds  to  criticise,  "  This  is,"  he  says, 
"  altogther  inartistic  teaching."  Our  great  master  does 
not  begin  with  definitions — and  indeed  gives  no  defini- 
tions— because  they  are  unsuited  to  the  pupil's  state  of 
mind.  He  begins  with  facts  wliich  the  child  can  under- 
stand, because  he  observes  them  himself.  This  teacher 
should  have  begun  with  facts.  The  first  lesson  in  Gram- 
mar (if  indeed  it  is  necessary  to  leach  Grammar  at  ail  to 
a  little  child)  should  be  a  lesson  on  the  names  of  the  ol- 
jects  in  the  room — objects  which  the  child  sees  and  hand- 
les, and  knows  by  seeing  and  handling  — that  is,  has 
ideas  of  them  in  his  mind.  "What  is  the  name  of  this 
thing  and  of  that  ?"  he  inquires,  and  the  child  tells  him. 
The  ideas  of  the  things,  and  the  names  by  which  they 
are  known,  are  already  associated  together  in  his  con- 
sciousness, and  he  has  already  learned  to  translate  things 
into  words.  The  teacher  may  tell  him  (for  he  could  not 
discover  it  for  himself)  that  a  name  may  also  be  called  a 
noun.  "  What  then,"  the  teacher  may  say,  "  is  a  noun  ?  " 
The  child  replies,  '■'■A  noun  is  the  name  of  a  thing.^''  He  has 
constructed  a  definition  himself — a  very  simple  one  cer- 
tainly— but  then  it  is  a  definition  which  he  thoroughly 
understands  because  it  is  his  own  work.  This  mode  of 
proceeding  would  be  artistic,  because  in  accordance  with 
Nature.  There  would  be  no  need  to  commit  the  defini- 
tion to  memoiy,  as  a  mere  collection  of    words,  because 


36  THE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OF    EDUCATION, 

what  it  means  is  already  committed  to  the  understand- 
ing which  will  retain  it,  because  it  represents  facts  al- 
ready known  and  appreciated.  Thoroughly  knowing 
things  is  tlie  sure  way  to  remember  them." 

In  some  such  way  as  this  our  expert  brings  the  pro- 
cesses commonly  called  teaching  to  the  touclistone  of 
his  Science,  the  Science  which  he  has,  built  up  on  his 
observation  of  the  processes  of  Nature. 

I  am  afraid  that,  in  spite  of  my  illustrations,  I  may 
still  have  failed  to  impress  you  as  strongly  as  I  wish  to 
do  with  the  cardinal  truth,  that  you  cannot  get  the  best 
results  of  teaching  unless  you  understand  the  mind  with 
which  you  have  to  deal.  There  are,  indeed,  teachers 
endowed  with  the  power  of  sympathizing  so  earnestly 
with  children,  that  in  their  case  this  sympathy  does  the 
work  of  knowledge,  or  rather  it  is  knowledge  uncon- 
sciously exercising  the  power  proverbiallj^  attributed  to 
it.  The  intense  interest  they  feel  in  their  work  almost  in- 
stinctively leads  them  to  adopt  the  right  way  of  doing  it. 
They  are  artists  without  knowing  that  they  are  artists. 
But,  speaking  generally,  it  will  be  found  that  the  only 
truly  efficient  director  of  intellectual  action  is  one  who 
understands  intellectual  action — that  is,  who  under- 
stands the  true  nature  of  the  mind  which  he  is  directing. 
It  is  this  demand  which  we  make  on  the  teacher  that 
constitutes  teaching  as  a  psychological  art,  and  which 
renders  the  conviction  inevitable  that  an  immense  num- 
ber of  those  who  practise  it  do  so  without  possessing  the 
requisite  qualifications.  They  undertake  to  guide  a  ma- 
chine of  exquisite  capabilities,  and  of  the  most  delicate 
construction,  without  understanding  its  construction  or 
the  range  ol  its  capabilities,  and  especially  without  un- 


TEAPHING    A    PSYCHOLOGI'^AI,    AKT.  37 

derstaiiding  the  fundaraenta]  principles  of  the  science  of 
mechanics.  Hence  the  telling,  cramming,  tlie  endless^ 
explaining,  the  note  learning,  wliicli  enfeeble  and  deaden 
the  native  powers  of  the  child;  and  hence,  as  the  final 
consequence,  the  melancholy  results  of  instruction  in 
our  primary  schools,  and  the  scarcely  less  melancholy 
results  in  schools  of  higher  aims  and  pretensions,  all  of 
which  are  the  legitimate  fruit  of  ihe  one  fundamental 
error  which  I  have  over  and  over  again  pointed  out. 

In  accordance  with  these  views,  it  has  heen  insisted 
on  throughout  the  entire  Course  of  Lectures,  that  teach- 
ing, in  the  true  sense  of  the  term,  has  notliing  in 
common  witi)  the  system  of  telling,  cramming,  and 
drilling,  which  v«ry  geneially  ursurps  its  name.  The 
teacher,  properly  so  called,  is  a  man  who,  besides  know- 
ing the  subject  he  has  to  teach,  knows  moreover  the 
nature  of  the  mind  which  he  has  to  direct  in  its  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge,  and  the  best  methods  by  which  this 
may  be  accomplished.  He  must  know  the  subject  of 
instruction  thoroughly,  because,  although  it  is  not  he 
but  the  child  who  is  to  learn,  his  knowledge  will  enable 
him  to  suggest  the  points  to  which  the  learner's  atten- 
tion is  to  be  directed;  and  besides,  as  his  proper  func- 
tion is  to  act  as  a  guide,  it  is  important  that  he  should 
have  previously  taken  the  journey  himself.  But  we  dis- 
countenance the  notion  usually  entertained  that  the 
teacher  is  to  know  because  he  has  to  communicate  his  knowl- 
edge to  the  learner;  and  maintain,  on  the  contrary,  that 
his  proper  function  as  a  teacher  does  not  consist  in  the 
communication  of  his  own  knowledge  to  the  learner,  but 
rather  in  such  action  as  ends  in  the  learner's  acquisition 
of  knowledge  for  himself.     To  deny  this  principle  is  to 


38  THE    SCIEXCE    AXD    ART   OF    EDUCATION. 

give  a  direct  sanction  to  telling  and  cramming,  which 
are  forbidden  by  the  laws  of  education.  To  tell  the 
child  what  he  can  learn  for  himself,  is  to  neutralize  his 
efforts;  consequently  to  enfeeble  his  powers,  to  quench 
his  interest  in  the  subject,  probably  to  create  a  distaste 
for  it,  to  prevent  him  from  learning  how  to  learn — to 
defeat,  in  slun-t,  all  the  ends  of  true  education.  On  the 
'other  hand,  to  get  him  to  gain  knowledge  for  himself 
stimulates  his  efforts,  strengthens  his  powers,  quickens 
his  interest  in  the  subject  and  makes  him  ttike  pleasure 
in  learning  it,  teaches  him  how  to  learn  other  subjects, 
leads  to  the  formation  of  habits  of  thinking;  and,  in 
short,  promotes  all  the  ends  of  true  education.  The  ob- 
vious objection  lo  this  view  of  the  case  is,  that  as  there 
are  many  things  which  the  child  cannot  learn  by  him- 
self, we  must  of  course  tell  him  them.  My  answer  is, 
that  the  things  which  he  cannot  learn  of  himself  are 
things  unsuited  to  the  actual  state  of  his  mind.  His  mind 
is  not  yet  prepared  for  tljem;  and  by  forciiigthem  upon 
him  prematurely,  you  are  injuriously  anticipating  the 
natural  course  of  things.  You  are  cramming  him  with 
that  which,  although  it  may  be  knowledge  to  you,  can- 
not possibly  be  knowledge  to  him.  Knowing,  in  rela- 
tion to  the  training  of  the  mind,  is  the  result  of  learning; 
and  learning  is  the  process  by  which  the  child  teaches 
himself;  and  he  teaches  himself — he  can  only  teach  him- 
self—  by  personal  experience.  Take,  for  instance,  a  por- 
ti()n  of  matter  which,  for  some  cause  or  other,  interests 
liim.  He  exercises  his  senses  iipon  it,  looks  at  it,  hand- 
les it,  etc.,  throws  it  on  the  ground,  flings  it  up  into  the 
air;  and  while  doing  all  this,  compares  it  with  other 
things,  gains  notious  of  its  color,  form,  hardness,  weight, 


DIRECTIOX   TOAVAKD    SELF-ACTIVITY.  39 

etc.  The  result  is,  that  without  atiy  direct  teaching 
from  you,  without  any  telling,  he  knows  it  through  his 
personal  experience — he  knows  it,  as  we  say,  of  his  own 
knowledge;  and  has  not  only  learned  by  himself  some- 
thing that  he  did  not  know  before,  but  has  been  learn- 
ing how  to  learn.  But  supposing  that  you  are  not  satis- 
fied with  hisproceedingthus  naturally  and  surely  in  the 
career  of  self-acquisition,  and  you  tell  him  something 
which  he  could  not  possibly  learn  by  this  method  of  his 
own.  Let  it  be,  for  instance,  the  distance  of  the  sun 
from  the  earth,  the  superficial  area  of  Sweden,  etc. 
When  you  have  told  him  that  the  sun  is  95  millions  of 
miles  from  the  earth,  that  the  area  of  Sweden  is  so  many 
square  miles,  you  have  evidently  transcended  his  per- 
sonal exj^erience.  What  you  have  told  him,  instead  of 
being  knowledge  gained,  as  in  the  other  case,  at  first 
hand,  is  information  obtained  probably  at  tenth  or  even 
fifteenth  hand,  even  by  yourself,  and  is  therefore  in  no 
true  sense  of  the  word  "  knowledge  "  even  to  you,  much 
less  is  it  knowledge  to  him;  and  in  telling  it  to  him  pre- 
maturely, you  are  cramming  and  notteacliing  him.  Dr. 
John  Brown  ("Horae  Subsecivse,"  Second  serie.«,  p.  473) 
well  says, — "The  great  thing  with  knowledge  and  the 
young  is  to  secure  that  it  shall  be  their  own;  that  it  be 
not  merely  external  to  their  inner  and  real  self,  but  shall 
go  in  succum  et  sanguinem;  and  therefore  it  is  that  the  self- 
teaching  that  a  baby  and  a  child  give  themselves  re- 
mains with  them  forever.  It  is  of  their  essence,  whereas 
what  is  given  them  ah  extra,  especially  if  it  be  received 
mechanically  without  relish,  and  without  any  energiz- 
ing of  the  entire  nature,  remains  pitifully  useless  and 
werih  (insipid.)     Try,  therefore,  always  to  get    the  resi- 


40  THE    SCIENCE    AND   ART    OF    EDUCATION. 

dent  teacher  inside  the  skin,  and  who  is  for  ever  giving  bis 
lessons,  to  help  you,  and  be  on  your  side,"  Yon  easily 
see  from  these  remarks  of  Dr.  Brown's  that  he  means 
what  I  mean; — that  matters  of  information  obtained  by 
other  people's  research,  and  which  is  true  knowledge  to 
those  who  have  lawfully  gained  it,  is  not  knowledge  to 
a  child,  who  has  had  no  share  in  the  acquisition,  and 
your  dogmatic  imposition  of  it  upon  his  mind,  or  rather 
memory  only,  is  of  the  essence  of  cramming.  Such  in- 
formation is  nierely  patchwork  laid  over  the  substance 
of  the  cloth  as  compared  with  the  texture  of  the  cloth 
itself.  It  is  on,  but  not  of,  the  fabric.  This  expansive 
and  comprehensive  principle — which  regards  all  learn- 
ing by  mere  rote,  even  of  such  matters  as  the  multiplica- 
tion table  or  Latin  declensions — before  the  child's  mind 
has  had  some  preliminary  dealing  with  the  facts  of  Num- 
ber or  of  Latin — as  essentially  crnmming,  and  therefore 
anti-educational  in  its  nature— will  be  of  course,  received 
or  rejected  by  teachers,  Justin  proportion  tss  they  receive 
or  reject  the  conception  of  an  art  of  teaching  founded 
on  psychological  principles. 

And  this  brings  me  to  the  next  point  for  special  con- 
sideration. I  said  that,  the  teacher  who  is  to  direct  intel- 
lectual operations  should  understai'd  what  they  are.  He 
shoidd,  especially  as  a  teacher  of  little  clnldren,  examine 
well  the  method,  already  referit-"d  to,  by  which  they  gain 
;ill  their  elementary  knowledge  by  themselves,  by  the 
exercise  of  tlieir  own  powers,  lie  should  study  children 
in  the  conci'ete, — take  note  of  the  causes  which  ojicrate 
on  the  will,  which  enlist  the  feelings,  which  call  forth  the 
intellect, — in  order  tiiat  he  mny  use  his  knowledge  with 
the   best   effect  when  he   takes  the   ])lace  of  the  great 


TEACHIJs'G   BASED    ON    PSYCHOLOGY.  41 

natural  educator.  To  cliange  slightly  Locke's  worrls,  be 
is  to  "consider  the  operation  of  the  discerning  faculties 
of  a  cliild  as  they  are  employed  about  the  objects  which 
they  have  to  do  with; "  and  this  because  it  is  his  proper 
function  as  a  teacher  to  guide  this  operation.  And  if  he 
wishes  to  be  an  accomplished  teacher — a  master  of  his 
art — he  should  furtlier  study  the  principles  of  Psychol- 
ogy, the  true  groundwork  of  his  action,  in  the  writings 
of  Locke,  Dugald  Stewart,  Bain,  Mill,  and  others,  who 
show  us  what  these  principles  are.  This  study  will  give 
a  scientific  compactness  and  co-ordination  to  the  facts 
which  he  has  learned  by  his  own  method  of  investiga- 
tion. 

But  it  may  be  said,  Do  you  demand  all  this  prepara- 
tion for  the  equipment  of  a  mere  elementary  teacher? 
My  reply  is,  I  require  it  because  he  is  an  elementary 
teacher.  Whatever  may  be  done  in  the  case  of  those 
children  Avho  are  somewhat  advauced  in  their  career, 
and  who  have,  to  some  extent  at  least,  learnt  how  to 
learn,  it  is  most  of  all  important  that  in  the  beginning  of 
instruction:  and  with  a  view  to  gain  the  most  fruitful 
results  from  tliat  instruction,  the  earliest  teacher  should 
be  an  adept  in  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education.  We 
should  do  as  the  Jesuits  did  in  their  famous  schools,  who, 
when  they  found  a  teacher  showing  real  skill  and  knowl- 
edge in  teaching  the  higher  classes,  promoted  him  to  the 
charge  of  the  lowest.  There  was  a  wise  insight  into 
human  nature  in  this.  Whether  the  child  shall  love  or 
hate  knowledge, — whether  his  fundamental  notions  of 
things  .shall  be  clear  or  cloudy, — whether  he  shall 
advance  in  his  course  as  an  intelligent  being,  or  as  a 
mere  machine, — whether  he  shall,  at  last,  leave  school 


42  THE    SCIENCE   AND    ART    OF   EDUCATION. 

stufifed  with  crude,  undigested  gobbets  of  knowledge,  or 
possessed  of  knowledge  assimilated  by  his  own  diges- 
tion, and  therefore  a  source  of  mental  health  and 
strength, — whether  he  shall  be  lean,  atrophied,  weak, 
destitute  of  the  power  of  self-government  and  self-direc- 
tion, or  strong,  robust,  and  independent  in  thought  and 
action, — depends  almost  altogether  on  the  manner  in 
which  his  earliest  instruction  is  conducted,  and  this 
again  on  the  teacher's  aquaintance  with  the  Science  and 
Art  of  Education. 

But  besides  knowing  the  subject  of  instruction,  and 
knowing  the  Art  of  Education  founded  on  the  Science, 
the  accomplished  teacher  should  also  know  the  methods 
of  teaching  devised  or  adopted  by  the  most  eminent 
practitioners  of  his  art.  A  teacher,  even  when  equipped 
in  the  manner  I  have  suggested,  cannot  safely  dispense 
with  the  experience  of  others.  In  applying  principles  to 
practice  there  is  always  a  better  or  a  worse  manner  of 
doing  so,  and  one  may  learn  much  from  knowing  how 
others  have  overcome  the  difficulties  at  which  we 
stumble. 

Many  a  teacher,  when  doubtful  of  the  principles  which 
constitute  his  usual  rule  of  action,  will  gain  confidence 
and  strength  by  seeing  their  operation  in  the  practice  of 
others,  or  may  be  reminded  of  them  when  he  has  for  the 
moment  lost  sight  of  them.  Is  it  nothing  to  a  teacher 
that  Plato,  Aristotle,  Plutarch,  Quintilian,  in  ancient 
times;  Ascham,  Rousseau,  Comenius,  Sturm,  Pestalozzi, 
Ratich,  Jacotot,  Frobel,  Richter,  Herbart,  Beneke,  Dies- 
terweg,  Arnold,  Spencer,  and  a  host  of  others  in  modern 
times,  have  written  and  worked  to  show  him  what  edu- 
cation is  both  ia  theory  and  practice  '?    Does  he  evince 


THE    HISTORY    OF    EDUCATIOX.  43 

anythino;  but  his  own  ignoranco  by  pretending  to  despise 
or  ignore  their  labors '?  What  would  be  said  of  a  medi- 
cal practioner  who  knows  nothing  of  the  woiks  or  even 
the  names  of  Celsus,  Galen,  Harvey,  John  Hunter, 
Sydenham,  Bell,  etc.,  and  who  sets  up  his  empirical 
practice  against  the  vast  weight  of  their  authority  and 
experience?  I  need  not  insist  on  this  argument;  it  is 
too  obvious.  Much  time,  therefore,  has  been  devoted, 
during  the  year,  to  the  History  of  Educr.tion  in  various 
countries  and  ages,  and  to  the  special  work  of  some  of 
the  great  educational  reformers.  In  particular,  the 
methods  of  Ascham,  Ratich,  Comenius,  Pestalozzi, 
Jacotot,  and  Frobel  have  been  minutely  described  and 
criticised. 

And  now  it  is  only  right  to  endeavor,  in  conclusion,  to 
answer  the  question  which  may  be  fairly  asked,  "  After 
all,  what  have  you  really  accomplished  by  this  elaborate 
exj^osition  of  principles  and  methods  ?  You  have  had 
no  training  schools  for  the  practice  of  your  students;  it 
has  all  ended  in  talk."  In  reply  to  this  inqiry  or  objec- 
tion, 1  have  a  few  Avords  to  say.  The  students  whom  I 
have  been  instructing  are  for  the  most  part  teachers 
already,  who  are  practising  their  art  every  day.  My 
object  has  been  so  forcibly  to  stamp  upon  their  minds  a 
few  great  principles,  so  strongly  to  iiaipress  them  with 
convictions  of  the  truth  of  these  principles,  that  it  should 
be  impossible,  in  the  nature  of  things,  for  them  as  my 
disciples,  to  act  in  contradiction  or  violation  of  them. 
Whenever,  in  their  practice,  they  are  tempted  to  resort 
to  drill  and  cram,  I  know,  without  being  there  to  see, 
that  the  principles  which  have  become  a  part  of  their 
being,  because  founded  on  the  truths  of  nature  recog- 


44  THE    SCIENCE    ^ViCD    AKT    OF    EDUCATION. 

nized  by  themselves,  rise  up  before  tliem  and  forbid  the 
intended  delinquency.  In  this  way,  without  the  appa- 
ratus of  a  training  school,  the  work  of  a  training  school  is 
done. 

But,  in  order  to  show  that  I  am  not  talking  at  ran- 
dom, I  will  quote  a  few  passages  from  exercises  written 
by  the  students  themselves,  relative  to  their  own  expe- 
rience:— 

"  Before  attending  these  Lectures,  my  aim  was  that  my  pupils 
should  gain  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge.  I  now  see  how  far 
more  important  is  the  exercise  of  those  powers  by  which  knowl- 
edge is  gained.  I  am  therefore  trying  to  make  them  think  for 
themselves.  This,  and  the  principle  of  repetition,  which  has  been 
so  much  insisted  upon,  prevents  us  from  getting  over  as  much 
ground  as  formerly,  but  I  feel  that  the  work  done  is  much  more 
satisfactory  than  it  used  to  be.  I  now  try  to  adapt  my  plan  to 
the  pupil,  not  the  pupil  to  my  plan.  I  used  to  prepare  a  lesson 
(say  in  history)  with  great  care;  all  the  information  which  I  thus 
laboriously  gained,  I  imparted  to  my  pupils  in  a  few  minutes.  I 
now  see  that,  though  I  was  benefitted  by  the  process,  my  pupils 
could  have  gained  but  little  good  from  it.  The  fact  of  having  a 
definite  end  in  view  gives  me  confidence  in  my  practice.  Tlie 
effect  of  these  Lectures,  as  a  whole,  has  been  to  give  me  a  new 
interest  in  my  work." 

' '  I  knew  before  that  the  ordinary  '  learu  by  rote  '  method  was 
not  real  education;  but  being  unacquainted  with  the  Science 
upon  which  the  true  art  of  instruction  is  founded,  all  my  ideas 
on  the  subject  were  vague  and  changeable,  and  1  often  missed 
the  very  definite  results  of  the  '  hurdy  gurdy'  system  without 
altogether  securing  any  better  ones. 

"I  have  learned  that  the  only  education  worthy  of  the  name  is 
based  upon  principles  derived  from  the  study  of  child  nature, 
and  from  the  observation  of  nature's  methods  of  developing  and 
training  the  inherent  powers  of  children  from  the  very  moment 
of  their  birth.  I  have  had  my  eyes  opened  to  observe  these  pro- 
cesses, and  now  see  much  more  in  the  actions  of  little  children 


PRACTICAL    RESULTS    OF    INSTRUCTION.  45 

than  I  formerly  did.  More  thaa  this,  I  liave  learned  to  apply 
the  principles  of  nature  to  the  processes  of  formal  education,  and 
by  them  to  test  their  value  and  Tightness,  so  that  I  need  no 
longer  be  in  doubt  and  darkness,  but  have  sure  grounds  to  pro. 
ceed  upon  under  any  variation  of  circumstances. 

"  Lastly,  I  have  learned  to  revereace  and  admire  the  great  and 
good,  who  in  different  ages  and  various  countries  have  devoted 
their  minds  to  the  principles  or  the  practice  of  education,  whose 
thoughts,  whose  successes,  whose  very  failures  are  full  of  instruc- 
tion for  educators  of  the  present  day,  especially  for  those  who, 
having  been,guided  to  tlie  sure  basis  upon  which  true  education 
rests,  are  in  a  position  to  judge  of  the  value  of  their  different 
theories  and  plans,  and  to  choose  the  good  and  refuse  the  evil." 

"  What  you  have  done  for  me,  I  endeavor  to  do  for  my  pupils. 
I  make  them  correct  their  own  errors;  indeed,  do  their  own  work 
as  much  as  possible.  Since  you  have  been  teaching  me,  my 
pupils  have  progressed  in  mental  development  as  they  have  never 
done  in  all  the  years  I  have  been  teaching.  Though  from  want 
of  power  and  early  training  I  have  not  done  you  the  justice  which 
many  of  your  pupils  have,  still  you  have  set  your  seal  upon  me, 
and  made  me  aim  at  being,  what  I  was  not  formerly,  a  scientific 
teacher." 

"....And  now  to  turn  to  the  modifications  introduced  into 
my  practice  by  these  Lectures.  I  was  delighted  with  them,  and 
was  more  astonished  as  eacli  week  passed  at  what  I  heard.  New 
light  dawned  upon  me,  and  I  determined  to  profit  by  it.  I  soon 
saw  some  of  the  prodigious  imperfections  in  my  teaching,  and  set 
about  remedying  them.  My  '  pupils  ^ould  be  self-teachers,' 
then  I  must  treat  them  as  such.  I  left  off  telling  them  so  much, 
and  made  them  work  more.  I  discontinued  correcting  their  exer- 
cises, and  made  them  correct  them  themselves.  I  made  them  look 
over  their  dictation  before  they  wrote  it,  and,  when  it  was  fin- 
ished, referred  them  to  the  text-book  to  see   whether  they  had 

written  it  correctly Time  would  fail  me  to  give   in  detail  all 

the  alterations  introduced  into  my  practice." 

"In  conclusion,  considering  wh&t  my  theory  and  practice 
were  when  I  entered  your  class,  I  am  convinced  that  the  benefits 


46  THiE    SCIENCE    AND    ART    OE    EDUCATION. 

I  have  derived  as  regards  both  are  as  follows: — (1)  I  have  learned 
to  observe,  (3)  to  admire,  (3)  to  imitate,  and  (4)  to  follow.  Nature. 
My  theories  have  become  based  on  the  firm  foundation  of  princi- 
ples founded  on  facts;  my  practice  (falling  far  short  of  the  per- 
fection that  I  aim  at  attaining)  is  nevertheless  in  the  spirit  of  it. 
And  although  in  all  probability  I  shall  never  equal  any  of  these 
great  teachers  whose  lives  and  labors  you  have  described,  yet  I 
know  that  I  shall  daily  improve  in  my  practice  if  I  hold  fast  to 
the  priuciples'that  jon  have  laid  down.  I  consider  you  have 
shown  me  the  value  of  a  treasure  that  I  unconsciously  possessed — 
I  mean  the  power  of  observing  Nature,  and  therefore  I  feel 
towards  you  the  same  sort  of  gratitude  that  the  man  feels  towardl 
the  physician  who  has  restored  his  sight." 

These  expressions  will  show  that  my  labors,  however 
imperfect,  have  not  ended  in  mere  talk. 

And  now  it  is  time  to  set  you  free  from  the  long 
demand  I  have  made  on  your  patience.  I  have  studi- 
ously avoided  in  this  Lecture  tickling  your  ears  with 
rhetorical  flourishes.  My  great  master,  Jacotot,  has 
taught  me  that  "  rhetoric  and  reason  have  nothing  in 
common."  1  have  therefore  appealed  to  your  reason. 
I  certainly  might  have  condensed  my  matter  more;  but 
long  experience  in  the  art  of  intellectual  feeding  has 
convinced  me  that  concentrated  food  is  not  easy  of 
digestion.  But  fo^  this  fault— if  it  be  one — and  for  any 
other,  Avhether  of  commission  or  omission,  I  throw 
myself  on  your  indulgent  consideration. 


THE  SCIENCE  AND  ART  OF  EDUCATION-ANALYSIS, 

A.   The  Science  of  Education. 

I.  Objections  encountered. 

1.  That  there  is  no  Science  of  Education ...18 

(a)  Tlie  experience  of  Germany 19 

2.  That  Teachers  liave  Nothing  to  Learn 31 

(a)  That  he  who  Icuows  a  subject  can  teach  it 22 

a  But  the  problem  is  to  gt  t  the  pupil  to  learn 23 

ft  The  teacher's  scholarship  may  be  an  obstacle 23 

II.  Means  of  establishing  a  Science  of  Education 24 

1.  Wlio  is  to  guarantee  its  soundness  ? 25 

2.  Not  to  be  evolved  from  present  practice 25 

3.  Nature's  system  to  be  followed. 26 

III.  Principles  discovered  by  investigation 27 

1.  Mind  and  body  interdependent. 27 

2.  Faculty  grows  by  exercise. 28 

3.  Exercise  ends  in  habits  and  perception 29 

4.  Exercise  ends  in  acquisition  and  invigoration. 30 

5.  Definition  of  Natural  Education 31 

6.  Definition  of  Education 31 

B.   The  Art  of  Education. 

I.  Science  and  Art  distinguished 32 

1.  Science  deals  with  essence;  art  with  action 32 

2.  Art  is  nature  with  man  added 32 

3.  Art  is  the  application  of  the  science .32 

II.  Applications  of  Art  based  on  Science... 33 

1.  Teaching  involves  interest  and  sympathy 33 

2.  Teaching  exercises  the  pupil's  powers 34 

3.  Teaching  begins  with  known  facts... 36 

III.  The  teacher  must  understand  the  pupil's  mind 36 

1.    Sympathy  may  do  the  worli  of  knowledge. 37 

2    But  teaching  is  a  psychological  art 37 


48  THE    SCIENCE    AXD    AKT    OF    EDUCATION. 

3.  Teaching  vs.  telling,  cramming,  drilling ..38 

IV.  The  teacher  to  direct  the  pupil  to  self-activity 38 

1.  The  pnpil  unfitted  for  what  he  cannot  learn  by  himself.. 39 
(a)  Knowledge  should  be  the  pupil's  own 39 

2.  Hence  the  teacher  must  know  the  pupil's  mind. 41 

(a)  Especially  important  in  primary  work 41 

a  Promotion  downward 42 

C.  The  History  of  Education .43 

I.  Confidence  and  strength  from  practice  of  others. 43 

D.  The  Practical  Resxdts  of  the  Training  of  Teachers. 

I.  Extracts  from  letters 44 


THE    THEORY 
OR  SCIENCE   OF  EDUCATION.* 

It  is  proposed  in  this  course  of  three  Lectiires,  to  treat 
of,  1st,  The  Theory  or  Science  of  Education;  2d,  The 
Practice  or  Art  of  Education;  3d,  Educational  Methods, 
or  special  applications  of  the  Science  and  Art. 

The  Science  of  Education  is  sometimes  called  Peda- 
gogy or  Paideutics,  and  the  Art  of  Education,  Didactics. 
There  seems,  however,  no  need  for  these  technical  terms. 
The  expressions  Science  and  Art  of  Education  are  ex- 
plicit, and  sufficiently  answer  the  purpose. 

The  Theory  or  Science,  as  distinguished  from  the  Prac- 
tice or  Art,  embraces  an  inquiry  into  the  principles  on 
which  the  Practice  or  Art  depends,  and  which  give 
reasons  for  the  efficiency  or  inefficiency  of  that  practice. 
I  do  not  profess  in  this  Lecture  to  construct  the  Science 
of  Education — that  still  waits  for  its  development.  As, 
however,  its  ultimate  evolution  depends  very  bqucIi  on 
a  general  recognition  of  its  value  and  importance,  I  pro- 
pose to  indicate  a  few  of  its  principles,  as  well  as  some  of 
the  sources  from  which  they  may  be  derived ;  and  further, 
to  show  the  need  for  their  application  to  the  present 
condition  of  the  art. 

In  the  progress  of  knowledge,  practice  ever  precedes 
theory.  We  do,  before  we  enquire  why  we  do.  Thus 
the  practice  of  language  goes  before  the  investigation 

*  Delivered  at  the  House  of  the  Society  of  Arts,  on  12th  July,  18T1 ; 
Professor  Huxley,  LL.D.,  in  the  Chair. 

C  49 


50  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

into  its  laws,  and  the  Art  before  tlie  Science  of  Music. 
It  is  the  same  with  Education.  The  practice  has  long 
existed;  but  the  theory  has,  as  yet,  been  only  partially 
recognized.  As,  however,  theory  re-acts  on  practice, 
and  improves  it,  we  may  hope  to  see  the  same  results  in 
Education,  when  it  shall  be  scientifically  investigated. 

As  the  terms  Education  and  Instruction  will  fre- 
quently occur  in  these  Lectures,  it  may  be  convenient 
at  the  outset  to  enquire  into  their  exact  meaning. 

The  verb  educare,  from  which  we  get  our  word  educate, 
differs  from  its  primitive  et^Mcere  in  this  respect,  that  while 
the  latter  means  to  draw  forth  by  a  single  act,  the  form- 
er, as  a  sort  of  frequentative  verb,  signifies  to  draw  forth 
frequently,  repeatedly,  persistently,  and  therefore  strong- 
ly and  permanently;  and  in  a  secondary  sense  to  draw 
forth  faculties,  to  train  or  educate  them.  An  educator 
is  therefore  a  trainer,  whose  functions  it  is  to  draw  forth 
persistently,  habitually  and  permanently,  the  powers  of 
a  child,  and  education  is  the  process  which  he  employs 
for  this  purpose. 

Then  as  to  Instruction.  The  Latin  verb  instruere,  from 
which  we  derive  instruct,  means  to  place  materials  to- 
gether, not  at  random,  but  for  a  j^urpose — to  pile  or 
heap  them  one  upon  another  in  an  orderly  manner,  as 
parts  of  a  preconceived  whole.  Instruction,  then,  is  the 
orderly  placing  of  knowledge  in  the  mind,  with  a  defi- 
nite object.  The  mere  aggregation,  by  a  teacher,  in  the 
minds  of  his  pupils,  of  incoherent  ideas,  gained  by  desulto- 
ry and  unconnected  mental  acts,  is  no  more  mstriictioniham 
heaping  bricks  and  stones  together  is  building  a  house. 
The  true  instructor  is  never  contented  with  the  mere 
collection  of  materials,  however  valuable  in  themselves. 


EDUCATION    Vs.    INSTRUCTION.  61 

but  continually  seeks  to  make  them  subservient  to  the 
end  he  has  in  view.  He  is  an  educational  Ampliion,  under 
whose  influence  the  bricks  and  stones  move  together  to 
tlie  place  wliere  they  are  wanted,  and  grow  into  the  form 
of  a  harmonious  fabric. 

Instruction  thus  viewed,  is  not,  as  some  conceive  of  it, 
the  antithesis  of  Education,  nor  generically  distinct  from 
it.  Every  educator  is  an  instructor;  for  education 
attains  its  ends  through  instruction;  but,  as  will  be 
shown,  the  instructor  who  is  not  also  consciously  an  ed- 
ucator, fails  to  accomplish  the  highest  aims  of  his 
science.  The  instruction  which  ends  in  itself  is  not 
complete  education. 

But  we  will  now  attempt  to  give  a  definition  of  Edu- 
cation. 

Education,  in  its  widest  sense,  is  a  general  expression 
that  comprehends  all  the  influences  which  operate  on 
the  human  being,  stimulating  his  faculties  to  action, 
forming  his  habits,  moulding  his  character,  and  making 
him  what  he  is.*  Though  so  powerfully  affected  by 
these  influences,  he  may  be  entirely  unconscious  of  them. 
They  are  to  him  as  "the  wind  which  bloweth  where  it 
listeth;  but  he  knows  not  whence  it  cometh  nor  whither 
it  goeth."  They  are  not,  however,  less  real  on  this  ac- 
count. The  circumstances  by  which  he  is  surrounded — 
the  climate,  the  natural  scenery,  the  air  he  breathes,  the 
food  he  eats,  the  moral  tone  of  the  family  life,  that  of 
the  community — all  have  a  share  in  converting  the  raw 
material  of  human  nature,  either  into  healthy,  intelli- 
gent, moral,  and  religious  man;  or,  on   the  contrary,  in 

*"  Wliatever,"  says  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill, "  helps  to  shape  the  human  being, 
to  make  the  individual  what  he  is,  or  hinder  him  from  being  what  he  is 
not,  is  part  of  his  education."— luauawraJ  Address  at  St.  Andreivs, 


52  THEOKY    OF    EDUCATION. 

coiiveitino^  it  into  an  emhodiraent  of  weakness,  stupid- 
ity, wickedness,  and  misery.  Thus  external  influences 
automatically  acting  upon  a  neutral  nature,  produce, 
each  after  its  kind,  the  most  opposite  results.  In  this 
sense  the  poor  little  gamin  of  our  sti'eets,  who  defiles  the 
air  with  his  blasphemies,  whose  thoughts  are  of  the 
dirt,  diriy,  who  picks  our  pockets  with  a  clear  con- 
science, has  been  duly  educated  by  the  impure  atmosphere, 
the  squalid  misery,  the  sad  examples  of  act  and  speech 
presented  to  him  in  his  daily  life — to  be  the  outcast 
that  he  is.  Such  instances  show  the  wondrous  power 
of  the  eductition  of  circumstance. 

It  is  a  noticeable  characteristic  of  this  kind  of  educa- 
tion, that  its  pupils  rarely  evince  of  their  own  accord 
any  desire  for  improvement,  and  are  in  this  respect 
scarcely  distinguishable  from  barbarians.  The  savages 
of  our  race  remain  savages,  not  because  they  have  not 
the  same  original  faculties  as  ourselves — faculties  gen- 
erally capable  of  improvement — but  because  they  have 
no  desire  for  improvement.  Nature  does  indeed  furnish 
her  children  with  elementary  lessons.  She  teaches  them 
the  use  of  the  senses,  language,  and  the  qualities  of 
matter,  but  she  leaves  them  to  procure  advanced  knowl- 
edge for  themselves,  while  she  implants  in  their  minds 
neither  motive  nor  desire  for  its  acquisition.  The  dif- 
ferentia of  the  savage  is,  that  he  has  rarely  any  wish 
for  self-elevation.  It  is  sad  to  think  how  many  savages 
of  this  kind  we  have  still  amongst  ourselves! 

But  education  is  conscious  as  well  as  unconscious. 
Some  cause  or  other  suggests  the  desire  for  improve- 
ment. The  teacher  appears  in  the  field,  and  civilization 
begins  its  career.     The  civilization   which   we  contrast 


EDUCATION    DEFINED.  53 

with  barl)arism  is  simply  the  result  of  that  action  of 
inincl  on  mind  which  carries  forward  the  teaching  of 
Nntnre — in  other  words,  of  what  we  call  education. 
Where  there  is  no  specific  conscious  education,  thei-e  is 
no  civilization.  Where  education  is  fully  appreciated, 
the  result  is  high  civilization;  and  generally,  as  educa- 
tion advances,  civilization  advances  in  proportion,  and 
thus  affords  a  measure  of  its  influence.  It  follows,  then, 
that  all  the  civilization  that  exists  is  ultimately  due  to 
the  educator,  including,  of  course,  the  educator  in 
religion. 

Education,  then,  as  we  may  now  more  specifically 
define  it,  is  the  training  carried  on  consciously  and  con- 
tinuously by  the  educator,  and  its  object  i»  to  convert 
desultory  and  accidental  force  into  organized  action; 
and  its  ultimate  aim  is  to  make  the  child  operated  on  by 
it  capable  of  becoming  a  healthy,  intelligent,  moral,  and 
religious  man;  or  it  may  be  described  as  the  systema- 
tization  of  all  the  influences  which  the  Science  of  Edu- 
cation recognizes  as  capable  of  being  employed  by  one 
human  being  to  develop,  direct,  and  maintain  vital  force 
in  another,  with  a  view  to  the  formation  of  habits. 

This  conception  of  the  end  of  education  defines  the 
function  of  the  educator.  He  has  to  direct  forces 
already  existing  to  a  definite  object,  and  in  proportion 
as  his  direction  is  wise  and  judicious  will  the  object  be 
secured. 

He  has  in  the  child  before  him  an  embodiment  of 
animal,  intellectual,  and  nioi-al  forces,  the  action  of 
which  is  irregular  and  fortuitous.  These  forces  he  has 
to  develop  further,  direct,  and  organize.  The  child  has 
an  animal  nature,  affected  by  external  influences,  and  en- 


54  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

(lowed  with  vital  energies,  wliicb  may  be  used  or  abused 
to  his  weal  or  woe.  He  has  also  an  intellectual  nature, 
capable  of  indefinite  development,  which  may  be 
employed  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  gain 
strength  by  the  very  act  of  acquisition;  but  which  may, 
on  the  other  hand,  through  neglect,  waste  its  powers,  or 
by  perversion  abuse  them.  He  has,  moreover,  a  moral 
nature  capable  by  cultivation  of  becoming  a  means  of 
usefulness  and  happiness  to  himself  and  others,  or  of 
becoming  by  its  corruption  the  fruitful  source  of  misery 
to  himself  and  the  community. 

It  is  the  business  of  the  educator,  by  his  action  and 
influence  on  these  forces,  to  secure  their  beneficial  and 
avert  their  injurious  manifestation — to  convert  this  un- 
disciplined energy  into  a  fund  of  organized  self-acting 
power. 

In  order  to  do  this  efficiently,  he  ought  to  understand 
the  nature  of  the  phenomena  that  he  has  to  deal  with; 
and  his  own  training  as  a  teacher  ought  especially  to 
have  this  object  in  view.  Without  this  knowledge, 
much  that  he  does  may  be  really  injurious,  and  much 
more  of  no  value. 

To  speak  technically,  then,  a  knowledge  of  what  is 
going  on  in  his  pupils'  bodies,  minds,  and  hearts,  their 
subjective  process,  will  regulate  the  means  which  he 
adopts  to  direct  the  action  of  those  bodies,  minds,  and 
hearts,  which  is  his  objective  process — the  one  being  a 
counterpart  of  the  other — and  the  consideration  of  what 
this  knowledge  consists  of,  and  how  it  may  be  best 
applied,  constitutes  the  Theory  or  Science  of  Education. 

I  am  well  aware  that  the  mention  of  the  words 
'  •  Theoiy  of  Education,"  and  the  assumption   that  the 


THE    SCIENCE    JUSTIFIED.  55 

educator  ought  to  be  educated  in  it,  is  apt  to  excite 
some  degree  of  opposition  in  the  minds  of  tliose  who 
chiim  especially  the  title  of  "  practical  teachers,"  and 
who  therefore  characteiize  this  theory  as  "a  quackery." 
Now  a  quack,  the  dictionary  iills  us,  is  "one  who  prac- 
tises an  art  without  any  knowledge  of  its  j>rinciples." 
There  seems,  then,  to  he  a  curious  infelicity  of  language 
in  calling  a  subject  which  embraces  principles,  which 
especially  insists  on  principles,  a  quackery.  If  educa- 
tion thus  viewed  is  a  quackery,  then  the  same  must  be 
said  of  medicine,  law,  and  theology;  audit  would  follow 
that  the  greatest  proHcieiit  in  the  principles  of  these 
sciences  must  be  the  greatest  quack — a  remarkable 
reductio  ad  absurdum.  This  position,  then,  will  perhaps 
hardly  be  maintained. 

But  there  is  a  second  line  of  defence.  The  practical 
teachers  say — and,  doubtless,  say  sincerely — "  We  don't 
want  any  Theory  of  Education;  our  aim  is  practical,  we 
want  nothing  but  the  practical."  We  agree  with  them 
as  to  the  value,  the  indispensable  value,  of  the  practical, 
but  not  as  to  the  assumed  antagonism  between  theory 
and  practice.  So  far  from  being  in  any  strict  sense 
opposed,  they  are  identical.  Theory  is  the  general, 
practice  the  particular,  expression  of  the  same  facts. 
The  words  of  the  theory  interpret  the  practice;  the 
propositions  of  the  science  interpret  the  siient  language 
of  the  art.  The  one  represents  truth  in  posse,  the  other, 
in  esse ;  the  one,  as  Dr.  Whewell  well  remarks,  involves, 
the  other  evolves,  principles.  So  in  Education,  theory 
and  practice  go  hand-in-hand;  and  the  practical  man 
who  denounces  theory  is  a  theorist  in  fact.*     He  does 

*  "  Tlieory  aiul  practice  always  act  upou  eacli  other;  one  can  see  from 
tlieir  works  what  men's  opiuioiis  are;  and  from  their  opinions  predict 
what  they  will  do."— Gyet/ie. 


56  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

not  of  course  drive  bliiully  on,  without  caring  whither 
he  is  going;  the  concepiion,  then,  which  he  forms  of  his 
end,  is  his  theory.  Nor  does  he  act  without  considering 
the  means  for  securing  his  object.  This  consideration 
of  the  means  as  suitable  or  unsuitable  for  his  purpose,  is 
again  his  theory.  In  fact,  the  reasons  which  he  would 
give  for  his  actual  practice,  to  account  for  it  or  defend 
it,  constitute,  whether  he  admits  it  or  not,  his  theory  of 
action.  All  that  we  ask,  is  that  this  conception  of  the- 
ory in  relation  to  education  should  be  extended  and 
reduced  to  princii^les. 

Mr.  Grove,  the  eminent  Q.C.,  in  an  address  given  at 
St.  Mary's  Hospital,  forcibly  expresses  the  same  opin- 
ion:— "If  there  be  one  species  of  cant,"  he  says,  "more 
detestable  than  another,  it  is  that  which  eulogizes  what 
is  called  the  practical  man  as  contradistinguished  from 
the  scientific.  If  by  practical  man  is  meant  one  who, 
having  a  mind  well  stored  with  scientific  and  general 
information,  has  his  knowledge  chastened  and  his  theo- 
retic temerity  subdued,  by  varied  experience,  nothing 
can  be  better;  but  if,  as  is  commonly  meant  by  the 
phrase,  a  practical  man  means  one  whose  knowledge  is 
only  derived  from  habit  or  traditional  system,  such  a 
man  has  no  resource  to  meet  unusual  circumstances; 
such  a  man  has  no  plasticity;  he  kills  a  man  according 
to  rule,  and  consoles  himself,  like  Moliere's  doctor,  by 
the  reflection  that  a  dead  man  is  only  a  dead  man,  but 
that  a  deviation  from  received  practice  is  an  injury  to 
the  whole  profession." 

Practical  teachers  may,  however,  admit  that  they 
have  a  theory,  an  empirical  theory,  of  their  own  which 
governs  their  practice,  and  yet  deny  that  the  general- 


PRACTICAL   AND   POSSIBLE.  6V 

ization  of  this  theory  into  principles  would  be  of  any 
value  to  tliemselves  or  to  tlie  cause  of  education.  They 
may  go  further  still,  and  deny  both  that  there  is  or  can 
})e  any  Science  of  Education.  Some  do,  indeed,  deny 
both  those  positions.  It  has  already  been  admitted  that 
the  Science  of  Education  is  as  yet  in  a  rudimentary  con- 
dition. There  is  at  present  no  such  code  of  indisputa- 
ble laws  to  test  and  govern  educational  action  as  there 
is  in  many  other  sciences.  Its  principles  lie  disjointed 
and  unorganized  in  the  sciences  of  Physiology,  Psychol- 
ogy, Ethics,  and  Logic,  and  will  only  be  gathered  to- 
gether and  codified  when  we  rise  to  a  high  conception 
of  its  value  and  importance.  Even  now,- however,  they 
are  acknowledged  in  the  discussion  of  such  questions  as, 
the  best  method  of  training  the  natural  faculties  of 
children — the  order  of  their  development — the  subjects 
proper  for  the  curriculum  of  instruction — book  teaching 
versus  oral — the  differentia  of  female  education — school 
discipline — moral  training,  and  a  multitude  of  others 
which  will  one  dny  be  decided  by  a  reference,  not  to 
traditional  usage,  but  to  the  principles  of  the  Science  of 
Education.  The  fact,  then,  that  this  science  is  not  yet 
objectively  constructed  is  no  argument  against  our 
atten)pting  to  construct  it,  and  we  maintain  that  the 
pertinacious  adherence  to  the  notion  of  the  all-sufficiency 
of  routine,  forms  the  greatest  difficulty  in  the  way  of 
securing  the  object.  It  is,  however,  mainly  for  the  sake 
of  the  teachers  of  the  next  generation  that  the  import- 
ance of  a  true  conception  of  the  value  of  principles  in 
education  is  insisted  on. 

It  follows,  then,  that  practical  teachers  who  desire  to 
see  practice  improved — and  surely  there  is  need  of  im- 


58  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

provement — ought  to  admit  that  there  is  the  same  obli- 
gation resting  on  the  educator  to  study  the  principles 
of  his  art  as  there  is  on  the  physician  to  study  anatomy 
and  therapeutics,  and  on  the  civil  engineer  to  study 
mechanics.  The  art  in  each  of  these  cases  has  a  scien- 
tific basis,  and  the  practitioner  who  desires  to  be  suc- 
cessful in  it — to  be  the  master  and  not  the  slave  of 
routine — must  studiously  investigate  its  fundamental 
principles. 

But  there  is  another  argument  against  routine  teach- 
ing which  ought  not  be  omitted.  It  is  founded  on  the 
effect  which  such  teaching  produces  on  the  pujjil.  Those 
teachers  who  are  themselves  the  slaves  of  routine  make 
their  pupils  slaves  also.  Without  intellectual  freedom 
themselves,  they  cannot  emancipate  their  pupils.  The 
machine  generates  machines.  They  make  their  pupils 
mechanically  apt  and  dexterous  in  processes,  and  in  this 
way  train  them  to  practice;  but,  not  appreciating  princi- 
ples themselves,  they  cannot  train  them  to  principles. 
Yet  this  latter  training,  which  essentially  involves  rea- 
soning and  thought,  ought  to  be  the  continual  and 
persistent  aim  of  the  educator.  He  has  very  imperfectly 
accomplished  the  end  of  his  being  if  he  dismisses  his 
pupils  as  merely  mechanical  artisans,  knowing  the  hoWf 
but  ignorant  of  the  Wty;  expert  in  processes  but  unin- 
formed in  principles;  instructed,  but  not  truly  educated. 
It  is  the  possession  of  principles  which  gives  mental  life, 
courage  and  power:  the  courage  which  is  not  daunted 
where  routine  fails,  the  power  which  not  only  firmly  di- 
rects the  established  machinery,but  corrects  its  apparent 
eccentricities,  canrepaii-  it  when  it  is  deranged,  and  adjust 
its  forces  to  new  emergencies.       Take  the  cage  of  a  rou- 


ROUTINE    TEACIIINO.  59 

tine  pupil  to  whom  you  propose  an  arithmetical  problem. 
His  first  enquiry  is,  not  what  are  the  conditions  of  the 
question,  and  the  principles  involved  in  its  solution,  but 
what  rule  he  is  to  work  it  by.*  This  is  the  question  of 
a  slave,  who  can  do  nothing  without  orders  from  his 
master.  Well,  you  give  him  the  rule.  The  rule  is,  in 
fact,  a  resume  of  priuciples  which  some  scientific  man  has 
deduced  from  concrete  facts  and  which  repi'esents  and 
embodies  the  net  result  of  various  processes  of  his  mind 
upon  them.  But  what  is  it  to  our  routine  pupil?  To 
him  it  is  merely  an  order  given  by  a  slave  driver,  and  he 
hears  in  it  the  words, — Do  this;  don't  do  that;  don't  ask 
why;  do  exactly  as  I  bid  you.  He  reads  his  rule,  his 
order,  does  what  he  is  bid,  grinds  away  athis\vork,  and 
arrives  at  the  end  of  it  a  slave  as  much  as  evei",  and  he 
is  a  slave  because  his  master  has  made  him  one. 

Educators,  indeed,  Kke  other  men,  come  under  two 
large  categories,  which  may  be  described  in  the  preg- 
nant words  of  the  accomplished  author  of  the  "  Auto- 
crat at  the  Breakfast  Table."  "  All  economical  and 
practical  wisdom,"  he  says,  "  is  an  extension  or  variation 
of  the  following  arithmetical  formula  2  +  2  =  4.  Every 
philosophical  proposition,  has  the  more  general  character 
of  the  expression  fl!+ 5  =  c.  We  are  merely  operatives, 
empirics,  and  egotists,  until  we  begin  to  think  in  let- 
ters instead  of  figures." 

Now  the  mere  routine  teacher  belongs  to  the  former, 

and  the  true  educator  to  the  latter  class,  and  each  will 

stamp  his  own  image  on  his  pupils. 

♦  MM.  Demogeot  and  Montucci.  in  their  Report  to  the  French  Gov- 
ernment on  English  Secondary  Instruction  fParis  1867)  severely  comment 
on  the  mechanical  spirit  in  which  mathematics  are  generally  taught  in  our 
schools  through  our  taking  little  account  of  the  reason,  and  making  pro- 
cesses rather  than  principles  the  end  of  instruction  (p.  120). 


60  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

All  that  has  been  said  resolves  itself,  then,  into 
the  proposition  that  a  man  engaged  in  a  profession,  as 
distinguished  from  a  mt're  handicraft,  ought  not  only  to 
know  what  he  is  doing,  but  why;  the  one  constituting  his 
practice,  the  other  his  theory.  He  cannot  give  a  reason 
for  the  faith  thatisin  him,  unless  he  examines  the  grounds 
of  that  faith, — unless  he  examine;-'  them  per  se,  and  traces 
their  connection  with  each  other  and  with  the  whole 
body  of  truth.  The  possession  of  this  higher  kind  of 
knowledge,  the  knowledge  of  principles  and  laws,  is, 
strictly  speaking,  his  only  warrant  for  the  pretension 
that  he  is  a.  professional  man,  and  not  a  mere  mechanic. 
Society  has  not,  indeed,  hitherto  demanded  this  profes- 
sional equipment  for  the  educator,  nor  has  the  educator 
himself  generally  recognized  the  obligation,  aptly  stated 
by  Dr.  Arnold,  that,  "in  whatever  it  is  our  duty  to  act, 
those  matters  also  it  is  our  duty  to  study,"  and  hence 
the  present  condition  of  education  in  England.  Educa- 
tion can  never  take  its  proper  rank  among  the  learned 
professions,  that  proper  rank  being  really  the  highest  of 
them  all,  until  teachers  see  that  there  really  are  princi- 
ples of  Education,  and  that  it  is  their  duty  to  study 
them. 

But  there  is  another  mode  of  studying  princii:)les  be- 
sides investigating  them  per  se.  They  may  be  studied 
in  the  practice  of  those  who  have  mastered  them. 

It  is  clear  that  a  man  may  have  carefully  investigated 
the  principles  of  an  art,  and  yet  fail  in  the  application 
of  them.  This  generally  arises  from  not  having  fully 
corapi'ehended  them.  He  has  omitted  to  notice  or  ap- 
preciate something  which,  if  he  knew  it,  would  answer 
his  purpose;  or  from  want  of  early  training  finds  it  difti- 


p:xpekiexce  of  others.  61 

cult  to  deduce  facts  from  principles,  practice  from  theory. 
In  such  a  case  there  is  an  available  resource.  Others 
have  seen  what  he  has  failed  to  see,  have  firmly  grasped 
what  he  has  not  comprehended,  have  made  the  necessary 
deductions,  and  embodied  them  in  their  own  practice. 
Let  the  learner,  then,  in  the  Science  of  Education,  study 
that  practice,  and  trace  it  in  the  correspondence  between 
the  principles  which  he  but  partially  appreciates,  and 
their  practical  application  in  the  methods  of  those  who 
have  thought  them  out.  In  other  words,  let  him  study 
the  great  masters  of  his  art,  and  learn  from  them  the 
philosophy  which  teaches  by  examples.  This  study,  so 
far  from  being  inconsistent  with  the  Theory  of  Educa- 
tion, is,  indeed,  a  necessary  part  of  it.  We  may  all 
learn  something  from  the  successful  experience  of  others. 
De  Quincy  (as  quoted  by  Mr.  Quick  in  his  valuable  "  Es- 
says on  Educational  Reformers*")  has  pointed  out  that 
a  man  who  takes  up  any  pursuit,  without  knowing  what 
advances  others  have  made  in  it,  works  at  a  great  disad- 
vantage. He  d'^es  not  apply  his  stiength  in  the  right 
direction,  he  troubles  himself  about  small  matters  and 
neglects  great,  he  falls  into  errors  that  have  long  since 
been  exploded.  To  this  Mr.  Quick  pertinently  adds, — 
"1  venture  to  think,  therefore,  that  practical  men,  in  ed- 
ucation, as  in  most  other  things,  may  derive  benefit  from 
the  knowledge  oF  what  has  been  uh'eady  said  and  done 
by  the  leading  men  engaged  in  it  both  past  and  present." 
Notwithstanding  the  obvious  common  sense  of  this  ob- 
servation, it  is  undeniably  true  that  the  great  majority 
of  teachers  are  profoundly  ignorant  of  the  sayings  and 
doings  of  the  authorities  in  education.  Their  own  em- 
*Publishecl  by  C.  W.  Bardeen,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  price  $1.50. 


62  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

pirical  methods,  their  own  self-devised  principles  of 
infttrnction,  generally  form  tbeir  entire  equipment  for 
their  profession.  I  have  myself  questioned  on  this  sub- 
ject scores  of  middle-class  teachers,  and  have  not  met 
with  so  many  as  half-a-dozen  who  knew  anything  more 
than  the  names,  and  often  not  these,  of  Quintilian,  Asch- 
am,  Comenius,  Locke,  Pestalozzi,  Jacotot,  Arnold,  and 
Herbert  Spencer.  What  should  we  say  of  a  physician 
who  was  entii'ely  unacquainted  with  the  researches  of 
Hippocrates,  Galen,  Harvey,  Sydenham,  the  Hunters, 
and  Bright  ? 

In  the  foregoing  remarks  I  have  endeavored  to  show 
that  there  is,  and  must  be,  a  Theory  of  Education  under- 
lying the  practice,  however  manifested,  and  to  vindicate 
the  conception  of  it  from  the  contempt  sometimes 
thoughtlessly  thrown  upon  it  by  practical  teachers. 

But  it  is  important  now  to  attempt  to  ascertain  what 
resources,  in  the  shape  of  principles,  hints,  and  sugges- 
tions, it  furnishes  to  the  educator  in  his  three-fold  capac- 
ity of  director  of  Physical,  Mental,  and  Moral  education. 

The  conception  we  have  formed  of  the  educator  in  re- 
lation to  his  work  requires  him  to  be  possessed  of  a 
knowledge  of  the  being  whom  he  has  to  control  and 
guide.  "  Whatever  questions,"  says  Dr.  Youmans,  of 
New  York,  "  of  the  proper  subjects  to  be  taught,  their 
relative  claims,  or  the  true  methods  of  teaching  them, 
may  arise,  there  is  a  prior  and  fundamental  enquiry  into 
the  nature,  capabilities,  and  requirements  of  the  being 
to  be  taught.  A  knowledge  of  the  being  to  be  trained, 
as  it  is  the  basis  of  all  intelligent  culture,  must  be  the 
first  necessity  of  the  teacher"  (p.  404).* 

*  "Xli«  Culture  tleinanclycl  by  ii  Motleru  Li.t*?," 


f'HYSICAL  EDUCATION  6'3 

"  Physical  Education. 
Viewed  merely  as  an  animal,  this  being  is  a  depository 
of  vital  forces,  which  may  be  excited  or  depressed,  well- 
directed  or  misdirected.  These  forces  are  resident 
in  a  comj)licated  structure  of  limbs,  senses,  breathing, 
digesting,  and  blood-circulating  apparatus,  etc.;  and 
their  healthy  manifestation  depends  much  (of  course 
not  altogether)  upon  circumstances  nnder  the  control  of 
the  educator.  If  he  understands  the  phenomena,  he  will 
modify  the  circumstances  for  the  benefit  of  the  child;  if 
he  does  not  understand  them,  the  child  will  suffer  from 
his  ignorance.  The  daily  experience  of  the  school-room 
sufficiently  illustrates  this  point.  Place  a  large  num- 
ber of  children  in  a  small  room  with  the  windows  shut 
down,  and  detain  them  at  their  lessons  for  two  or  three 
hours  togethei'.  Then  take  note  of  what  you  see.  The 
impure  air,  breathed  and  rebreathed  over  and  over  again, 
has  lost  its  vitality — has  become  poisonoias.  It  re-acts 
on  the  blood,  and  this  again  on  the  brain.  The  teacher 
as  well  as  the  children  all  suffer  from  the  same  cause. 
He  languidly  delivers  a  lesson  to  pupils  who  more  lan- 
guidly receive  it.  They  are  no  longer  able  to  concen- 
trate their  attention.  They  answer  his  half-understood 
questions  carelessly  and  incorrectly.  Not  appreciating 
the  true  state  of  the  case,  he  treats  them  as  wilfully  in- 
different, and  ])unishes  the  offenders,  as  they  feel,  unjust- 
ly. They  retain  this  impression;  the  cordial  relation 
subsisting  before  is  rudely  disturbed,  and  his  moral 
influence  over  them  is  impaired.  We  have  here  a  nat- 
ural series  of  causes  and  consequences.  The  state  of  the 
air,  a  physical  cause,  acts  first  on  the  bodies,  then  on 
the  minds,  and  lastly   on  the  hearts  of  the  pupils;  the 


64  THEORY    OF    EDTTCATION. 

last  being,  peiliaps,  the  most  important  consequence  of 
the  three.  Now  in  this  case  both  teacher  and  pupils 
suffer  from  neglect  of  those  laws  of  health  which  a 
knowledge  of  Physiology  would  have  supplied.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  the  obvious  applications  of 
such  knowledge  to  diet,  sleep,  cleanliness,  clothing,  etc. 

Knowledge  of  this  kind  has  been  strangely  overlooked 
in  the  educator's  own  education,  though  so  much  of  his 
efficiency  depends  on  his  acting  himself,  and  causing 
others  to  act,  on  the  full  recognition  of  its  value.  Edu- 
cation has  too  generally  been  regarded  in  its  relations 
to  the  mind,  and  the  co-operatiou  of  the  body  in  the 
mind's  action  has  been  forgotten.  Those  who  listened 
to  the  masterly  lecture,  delivered  a  few  years  ago  at 
this  College,  by  Dr.  Youmans,  on  the  "  Scientiiic  Study 
of  Human  Nature,"  will  remember  his  eloquent  vindica- 
tion of  the  claims  of  the  body  to  that  consideration 
which  educators  too  frequently  deny  it,  and  the  conse- 
quent importance  to  them  of  sound  physiological  knowl- 
edge. With  singular  force  of  reasoning  he  showed 
that  the  healthiness  of  the  brain,  as  the  organic  seat  of  the 
mind,  is  the  essential  basis  of  the  teacher's  operations; 
that  tlie  efficiency  of  the  brain  depends  in  a  great  de- 
gree on  the  healthy  condition  of  the  stomach,  lungs, 
heart  and  skin;  and  that  this  condition  is  very  much  af- 
fected by  the  teacher's  application  to  the  laws  of  health 
as  foundetl  on  Physiology.  His  general  remarks  on 
education,  and  especially  on  physical  education,  are  too 
valuable  to  be  omitted: — 

"The  imminent  question,"  he  says  (p.  406),  "is,  how 
may  the  child  and  youth  be  developed  healthfully  and 
vigorously,  bodily,  mentally,  and  morally?    and  science 


PHYSICAL    EDUCATION.  65 

alone  can  answer  it  by  a  statement  of  the  laws  upon 
which  that  development  depends.  Ignorance  of  these 
laws  must  inevitably  involve  mismanagement.  That 
there  is  a  large  amount  of  mental  perversion  and  ab- 
solute stupidity,  as  well  as  bodily  disease,  produced  in 
school,  by  measures  which  o))erate  to  the  prejudice  of 
the  growing  brain,  is  not  to  be  doubted;  that  dullness, 
indocility,  and  viciousness,  are  frequently  aggravated  by 
teachers,  incapable  of  discriminating  between  their  men- 
tal and  bodily  causes,  is  also  undeniable;  while  that 
teachers  often  miserably  fail  to  improve  their  pupils,  and 
then  report  the  result  of  their  own  incompetency  as  failures 
of  nature,— a]\  may  have  seen,  although  it  is  now  proved 
that  the  lowest  imbeciles  are  not  sunk  beneath  the  pos- 
sibility of  elevation." 

I  give  one  short  quotation  from  Dr.  Andrew  Combe, 
to  the  same  effect.  "I  cannot,"  he  says,  regard  any 
teacher,  or  pai-ent,  as.  fully  and  conscientiously  qualified 
for  his  duties,^  unless  he  has  made  himself  acquainted 
with  the  nature  and  general  laws  ol' the  animal  economy, 
and  with  the  direct  relation  in  which  these  stand  to  the 
principles  of  education."  Dr.  Brigham  also  advises 
those  who  undertake  to  cultivate  and  discipline  the  mind, 
to  acquaint  themselves  with  Human  Anatomy  and  Phy- 
siology. 

All  these  authorities  agree,  then,  that  educators  have 
a  better  chance  of  improving  the  physical  condition  of 
their  pupils  if  they  are  themselves  acquainted  with  the 
laws  of  health;  and  they  insist,  moreover,  that  the  health 
of  the  body  is  not  only  desirable  for  its  own  sake,  but 
because,  from  the  interdependence  of  mind  and  body,  the 
mens   sana  depends  so   much   on  the  corpus  sanum.     This 


66  I'HEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

truth  is  strikingly,  though  paradoxically,  expressed  by 
Rousseau,  when  he  says,  "The  weaker  the  body  is,  the 
more  it  commands;  the  stronger  it  is,  Lhe  better  it 
obeys;"  and  when  he  also  says,  "make  your  pupil 
robust  and  healthy,  in  order  to  make  him  reasonable  and 
wise." 

In  short,  hundreds  of  writers  have  written  on  this  sub- 
ject for  the  benefit  of  educators,  thousands  of  whom 
have  never  even  heard  of,  much  less  read,  their  writings; 
or,  if  they  have,  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  do- 
ing just  as  they  did  before,  and  ignorantly  laughing  at 
Hygiene  and  all  the  aid  she  offers  them. 

Physical  education  also  comprehends  the  ti'aining  of 
special  faculties  and  functions,  with  a  view  to  improve 
their  conditiou.  The  trainer  of  horses,  dogs,  singing 
birds,  boxers,  boat  crews,  and  cricketers,  all  make  a 
study,  more  or  less  profound,  of  the  material  they  have 
to  deal  with — all  except  the  educator,  the  trainer  of 
trainers,  who  generally  leaves  things  to  take  their  chance, 
or  assumes  that  the  object  will  be  sufficiently  gained  by 
the  exercises  of  tlie  playground  and  the  gymnastic  ap- 
paratus. It  would  be  easy  to  show  tliat  this  self-educa- 
tion, although  most  valuable,  is  insufficient,  and  ought 
to  be  supplemented  by  the  appliances  of  Piiysiological 
Science.  This  science  would  suggest,  in  some  cases, 
remedies  for  natural  defects;  in  others,  suitable  train- 
ing for  natural  weakness;  in  others,  still  graver  reasons 
for  checking  the  injurious  tendency,  so  common  among 
children,  to  over  exertion;  and  in  all  these  cases  would 
be  directly  ancillary  to  the  professed  object  of  the  edu- 
cator as  a  trainer  of  intellectual  and  moral  forces. 

The  effect,  too,  of  the  condition  of  the  mind  on  that 


INTELLECTUAL    EDUCATION.  67 

of  the  body  —  tlie  converse  reciprocal  action  —  is  an 
im|)ortant  part  of  this  subject;  but  there  is  no  time 
to  enter  on  it. 

Intellectual  Education. 

But  lot  US  next  consider  the  relation  of  the  educator 
to  the  mtelleclual  echicatmi  of  his  pupils.  However  will- 
ing he  may  be  to  repudiate  his  responsibility  for  the 
trainingof  their  bodies,  he  cannot  deny  the  responsibility 
for  the  training  of  their  minds.  But  here  Dr.  Youman's 
words,  already  quoted,  apply  with  especial  force — "  A 
knowledge  of  the  being  to  be  trained,  as  it  is  the  basis 
of  intelligent  culture,  must  be  the  first  necessity  of  the 
teacher,"  and  few  perhaps  will  venture  to  argue  against 
those  that  follow:  "Education,"  he  says  "  is  an  art,  like 
locomotion,  raining,  and  bleaching,  which  may  be  pur- 
sued empii-ically,  or  rationall}'^ — as  a  blind  habit,  or  under 
intelligent  guidance:  and  the  relations  of  science  to  it  are 
precisely  the  same  as  to.  all  the  other  arts — to  ascertain 
their  couditions,  and  give  law  to  their  processes.  What 
it  has  done  for  navigation,  telegraphy,  and  war,  it  will 
also  do  for  culture." 

The  educator  of  the  mind  ought,  then,  to  be  acquainted 
with  its  phenomena  and  its  natural  operations  ;  he  ought 
to  know  whit  the  mind  does  when  it  perceives,  remem- 
bers, judges,  etc.,  as  well  as  the  general  laws  which  gov- 
ern these  processes.  He  sees  these  processes  in  action 
continually  in  his  pupils,  and  has  thus  abundant  oppor- 
tunities for  studying  them  objectively.  He  is  conscious 
of  them,  too,  in  his  own  intellectual  life,  and  there  may 
study  them  subjectively  ;  but  the  investigation,  thus 
limited,  is  confessedly  difficult,  and  will  be  much  facil- 
itated by  his  making  an  independent  study  of  them  as 


68  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

embodied  in  the  science  of  Psychology  or  Mental  Phil- 
osophy. This  science  deals  with  everything  which 
belongs  to  the  art  which  he  is  daily  practising,  will 
expl.'iin  to  him  some  matters  which  he  has  found  diffi- 
cult, will  open  his  eyes  to  others  which  he  has  failed  to 
see,  will  suggest  to  him  the  importance  of  truths  which 
he  has  hitherto  deemed  valueless  ;  and,  in  short,  the 
mastery  of  it  will  endow  him  with  a  power  of  which  he 
will  constantly  feel  the  influence  in  his  practice.  His 
pupils  are  continually  engaged  in  observing  outward 
objects,  ■ascertaining  their  nature  by  analysis,  comparing 
them  together,  classifying  them,  gaining  mental  concep- 
tions of  them,  recalling  these  conceptions  by  memory, 
judging  of  their  relations  to  each  other,  reasoning  on 
these  relations,  imagining  conceptions,  inventing  new 
combinations  of  them,  generalizing  by  induction  from 
particulars,  verifying  these  generalizations  by  deduction 
to  particulars,  tracing  effects  to  causes  and  causes  to 
effects.  Now,  every  one  of  these  acts  forms  a  part  of 
the  daily  mental  life  of  the  pupils  whom  the  educator  is 
to  train.  Will  not  the  educator,  who  understands  them 
as  a  part  of  his  science,  be  more  c<)mpetent  to  direct  them 
to  profitable  action  than  one  who  merely  recognizes 
them  as  a  part  of  his  empirical  routine  ?  Suppose  that 
the  object  is  to  cultivate  the  power  of  observation.  Now 
the  power  of  observation  may  vary  inaccuracy  fi-om  the 
careless  glance  which  leaves  scarcely  any  impression 
behind  it,  to  the  close  penetrating  scrutiny  of  the  expe- 
rienced observer,  which  leaves  nothing  unseen.  Mr. 
J.  S.  Mill  (Logic  i.  408)  has  pointed  out  the  difference 
between  observers.  "  One  man,"  he  says,  "  from  inat- 
tention, or  attending  only  in  the  wrong  place,  overlooks 


INTELLECTUAL    EDUCATION.  69 

half  of  what  he  sees  ;  another  sets  down  mucli  more  than 
he  sees,  eonfounilino;  it  with  what  he  imagines,  or  with 
what  he  infers;  iuiother  takes  note  of  the  kind  of  all  the 
circumstances,  but,  being  inexpert  in  estimating  their 
degree,  leaves  the  quantity  of  each  vague  and  uncertain  ; 
another  sees  indeed  the  whole,  but  makes  such  awkward 
division  of  it  into  parts,  throwing  things  into  one  mass 
which  ought  to  be  separated,  and  separating  others 
which  might  more  conveniently  be  considered  as  one, 
that  the  result  is  much  the  same,  sometimes  even  worse, 
than  if  no  analysis  had  been  attempted  at  all.  To  point 
out,"  he  proceeds,  "  what  qualities  of  mind,  or  modes  of 
mental  culture,  fit  a  man  for  being  a  good  observer,  is  a 
question  which  belongs  to  the  theory  of  education.  There 
are  rules  of  self-culture  which  render  us  capable  of 
observing,  as  there  are  arts  for  strengthening  the  limbs." 
But  to  return  to  our  educator,  who,  having  been  edu- 
cated himself  in  Mental  Science,  desires  to  make  his 
pupils  good  observers.  He  recognizes  the  fact  that,  to 
make  them  observe  accurately,  he  must  first  cultivate 
the  senses  concerned  in  observing  ;  he  must  train  the 
natural  eye  to  see,  that  is,  to  perceive  accurately — by 
no  means  an  instinctive  faculty  ;  for  this  he  must  culti- 
vate the  power  of  attention  ;  he  must  lead  them  to  per- 
ceive the  ])arts  in  the  whole,  the  whole  in  the  parts,  of 
the  object  observed,  calling  on  the  analytical  faculty  for 
the  first  operation,  the  synthetical  for  the  second  ;  he 
must  invite  comparison  with  other  like  and  unlike 
objects,  for  the  detection  of  differonce  in  the  one  case, 
and  of  similarity  in  the  other,  and  so  on.  Is  it  probable 
that  the  teacher  entirely  ignorant  of  the  science  of 
Psychology,   and  the   educator  furnished   with   its    re- 


YO  THEOKY    OF    EDUCATION. 

sources,  will  make  their  respective  pupils  equally  accur- 
ate observers  ? 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  a  knowledge  of 
Logic,  as  "■  the  science  of  reasoning  "  or  of  the  formal 
laws  of  thought  should  also  be  a  part  of  the  equipment 
of  the  accomplished  educator.  The  power  of  reasoning 
is  a  natural  endowment  of  his  pupils  ;  but  the  pow'er  of 
correct  reasoning,  like  that  of  observing,  requires  train- 
ing and  cultivation.     But  we  cannot  dwell  on  this  point. 

In  further  illustration  of  the  main  argument,  I  beg  to 
refer  to  ray  hearers  to  the  very  ingenious  lecture  lately 
delivered  at  this  College  by  my  friend  Mr.  Lake,  on 
"  The  Application  of  Mental  Science  to  Teaching,"  and 
especially  to  teaching  Writing,  wherein  he  show^s  that 
even  that  mechanical  art  maybe  made  a  means  of  real 
mental  training  to  the  pupil.  He  proves  that  Muscular 
Sensibility,  Sensation,  Thought,  Will,  as  well  as  the 
nascent  sense  of  Artistic  Taste,  are  all  involved  in  the 
subjective  process  of  the  pupil  ;  that  in  accordance  with 
this,  the  educated  educator  frames  the  objective  process, 
through  which  he  develops  thepuj)il's  mind,  and  to  some 
extent  his  moral  character,  and  thus  makes  him  a  practi- 
cal proficient  in  his  art.  Mr.  Lake's  lecture  is  probably 
the  first  attempt  ever  made  to  show  the  dii'ect  practical 
bearing  of  physiological  and  psychological  knowledge 
on  the  art  of  teaching,  and  deserves  the  thoughtful  con- 
sideration of  all  educators.  This  same  Mental  Science 
is  also  applicable  to  the  teaching  of  Heading  and  Arith- 
metic. Indeed,  I  am  persuaded — and  I  speak  from  some 
experience — that  these  elementary  arts  may  be  so  taught 
as  to  become,  not  o'nly  "  instruction,"  but  true  "  educa- 
tion," to  the  child  ;  not   merely,  as   they   are   generally 


MORAL    EDUCATION.  71 

regarded,  "instruments  of  education,"  but  education 
itself.  Observation,  memory,  judgment,  reasoning,  in- 
vention, and  pleasurable  associations  with  the  art  of 
learning,  may  all  be  cultivated  by  a  judicious  applica- 
tion of  the  principles  of  Mental  Science.  Mulhauser, 
and  INfaiily  (of  the  City  of  London  School),  have  proved 
this  for  Writing,  Jacotot  for  Reading,  and  Pestalozzi 
for  Arithmetic.  When  this  truth  is  acknowledged,  it 
will  be  felt  more  generally  than  it  is  now,  that  the  most 
pretentious  schemes  and  curricula  of  education  are,  after 
all,  comparatively  valueless  if  they  do  not  secure  for  the 
pu))i]  the  power  of  doing  common  things  well.  This,  how- 
ever, is  a  theme  which  would  I'equire  a  lecture  by  itself 
for  its  adequate  treatment. 

Moral  Education. 

But  the  child  whom  we  have  considered  as  the  object 
of  the  educatoi's  operations  has  moral  as  well  as  physi- 
cal and  intellectual  faculties  ;  and  the  development  of 
these,  with  the  view  of  forming  character,  is  a  transcen- 
dently  important  part  of  the  educator's  work.  This 
child  has  feelings,  desires,  a  will  and  a  conscience,  which 
are  to  be  developed  and  guided.  Here,  too,  as  in  the 
other  cases.  Nature  has  given  elementary  teaching,  and 
elicited  desultory  and  instinctive  action  ;  but  her  lessons 
are  insufficient,  and  require  to  be  supplemented  by  the 
educator's. 

The  child,  as  already  said,  is  a  moral  being,  but  his 
moral  principles  are  crude  and  inconsistent.  Acted  on 
by  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  he  follows  out  the  prompt, 
ings  of  his  will,  without  any  regard  to  personal  or  rela- 
tive consequences  ;  and  if  the    will   i«   naturally  strong- 


V2  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

even  the  experience  of  injurious  consequences  does  not, 
of  itself,  restrain  him.  Self-love  induces  hira  to  regard 
everything  that  he  wishes  to  possess  as  i-ightfuUy  his 
own.  He  says  by  his  actions,  "  Creation's  heir,  the  world 
— the  world  is  mine."  lie  is  therefore  indifferent  to  the 
rights  of  others,  and  resents  all  oposition  to  his  self-seek- 
ing. He  is  also  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  others,  and 
often  tyrannizes  over  those  who  are  weaker  than  Iiim- 
self.  His  unbounded  curiosity  impels  him  incessantly  to 
gain  knowledge.  Hs  examines  evei'vthiug  that  interests 
him  ;  acquires  both  ideas  and  expressions  by  listening  to 
conversations  ;  breaks  his  toys  to  see  how  they  are 
made;  disj)lays  also  his  constructive  ability  by  cutting 
out  boats  and  paper  figures.  But  he  has  sympathy  as 
well  as  curiosity.  He  makes  friends,  learns  to  love 
them,  to  yield  up  his  own  inclinations  to  theirs  ;  imi- 
tates their  sayings  and  doings,  good  and  bad  ;  adopts 
their  notions,  becomes  like  them.  He  has  also  a  con- 
science, which,  when  awakened,  decides,  though  in  an 
uncertain  manner,  on  the  moral  quality  of  his  actions  ; 
and  lastly  he  has  a  will,  which  is  swayed  by  this  self- 
love,  curiosity,  sympathy,  and  conscience. 

This  is  a  slight  sketch  of  the  moral  forces  which  the 
educator  has  to  control  and  direct.  Now  every  teacher 
is  conscious  that  he  can,  and  does  every  day,  by  his  per- 
sonal character,  by  the  economic  arrangements  of  the 
school,  by  his  general  discipline,  by  special  treatment  of 
individual  cases,  exercise  a  considerable  influence  over 
these  moral  phenomena  ;  and  must  confess  that  the  ex- 
tent of  this  influence  is  generally  measured  by  his  own 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  that  when  he  fails  it  is 
because  he  forgets  or  is  ignorant   of  some    elementary 


MORAL    EDUCATION.  73 

principle  of  tluit  nature.  If  he  allows  this,  he  must  al- 
low that  a  larger  acquaintance  with  the  principles  on 
which  human  beings  ;ict, — the  motives  which  influence 
them, — the  t)bjects  at  which  they  commonly  aim, — the 
passions,  desires,  characters,  manners  which  appear  in 
the  world  around  him  and  his  own  constitution, — would 
proportionately  increase  his  influence. 

But  these  are  the  very  matters  illustrated  by  the  Sci- 
ence of  Morals,  or  Moral  Philosophy,  and  the  educator 
will  be  greatly  aided  in  his  work  by  knowing  its  leading 
principles. 

For  what  is  the  object  of  moral  training?  Is  it  not 
to  give  a  wise  direction  to  the  moral  powers, — to  en- 
courage virtuous  inclinations,  sentimeirts  and  passions, 
and  to  repress  those  that  are  evil, — to  cultivate  habits  of 
truthfulness,  obedience,  industry,  temperance,  prudence, 
and  respect  for  the  rights  of  others,  with  a  view  to  the 
formation  of  character  ? 

This  enumeration  of  the  objects  of  moral  training 
presents  a  wide  field  of  action  for  the  educator  ;  yet  a 
single  day's  experience  in  any  large  school  will  probably 
supply  the  occasion  for  his  dealing  with  every  one  of 
them.  How  important  it  is,  then,  that  he  should  be  well 
furnished  with  resources. 

Every  earnest  educator,  moreover,  will  confess  that 
he  has  much  to  learn,  especially  in  morals,  from  his  pu- 
pils. To  be  successful,  he  must  study  his  own  charac- 
ter in  theirs,  as  well  as  theirs  in  his  own.  Coleridge  has 
well  put  this  in  these  lines  :  — 

"  O'er  Wayward  childhood  would'st  thou  hold  firm  rule, 
And  sun  thee  in  the  light  of  happy  faces  ? 
Love,  Hope,  and  Patience — these  must  be  thy  graces  ; 
And  in  thine  own  heart  let  them  first  keep  school." 


74  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

A  little  story  from  Chaucer  illustrates  the  same  point. 
I  give  it  in  his  own  words  : — "A  philosopher,  upon  a 
tyme,  that  wolde  have  bete  his  disciple  for  his  grete 
trespas,  for  which  he  was  greatly  anioeved,  and  brought 
a  yerde  to  scourge  the  child  ;  and  when  the  child  saugh 
the  yerde,  he  sayde  to  his  master,  '  What  thenke  ye  to 
do  ?  'I  wolde  bete  the,'  quod  the  master,  '  for  thi  cor- 
rectioun.'  'Forsothe,'  quod  the  child,  'ye  oughte  first 
correcte  youresilf  that  han  lost  al  youre  pacience  for  the 
gilt  of  a  child.'  'Forsothe,'  quod  the  raaister,  al  wepy- 
ing,  '  thou  saist  soth  ;  have  thou  the  yerde,  my  deere 
sone,  and  correcte  me  for  rayn  impatience.'"  This  mas- 
ter was  learning,  we  see,  in  the  school  of  his  own  heart, 
and  his  pupil  was  his  teacher. 

Time  does  not  allow  of  our  entering  more  in  detail 
into  the  question  of  moral  training,  and  showing  that 
the  great  object  of  moral,  like  that  of  physical  and  in- 
tellectual education,  is  to  develop  force,  with  a  view  to 
the  pupil's  self-action.  Unless  this  point  is  gained — and 
it  cannot  be  gained  by  preceptive  teaching — little  is 
gained.  Our  pupil's  character  is  not  to  be  one  merely 
for  holiday  show,  but  for  the  daily  duties  of  life — a 
character  which  will  not  be  the  sport  of  every  wind  of 
doctrine,  but  one  in  which  virtue — moral  strength, — is 
firmly  embodied.  Such  a  character  can  only  be  formed 
bymakmg  the  child  himself  a  co-operator  in  the  process 
of  formation. 

If  I  have  not  specially  referred  to  religious,  as  a  part 
of  moral  education,  it  is  because  no  truly  religious  edu- 
cator can  fail  to  make  it  a  part  of  his  system  of  means. 
As  for  the  case  of  the  teacher  whose  every-day  life 
shows  that  he  is  not   influenced   himself  by  the  religion 


DEVELOPMENT    OF    SELF-ACTIVITY,  75 

which  he,  as  a  matter  of  form,  imposes  upon  liis  pupils, 
1  have  great  difficulty  in  conceiving  of  him  as  a  teacher 
of  morals  at  all. 

I  liave  now  completed  the  general  view  I  proposed  to 
take  of  the  relation  of  the  educator  to  his  work;  and  the 
gist  of  all  that  I  have  said  is  contained  in  the  simple 
proposition,  that  he  ought  to  know  his  business,  if  he 
wishes  to  accomplish  his  objects  in  the  best  way.  The 
deductions  from  this  proposition  are, — that,  as  his  busi- 
ness consists  in  training  physi(!al,  mental,  and  moral 
forces,  he  ought  to  understand  the  nature  of  these 
forces,  both  in  their  statical  and  dynamical  condition, 
at  rest  and  in  action,  and  should  therefore  study  Phy- 
siology, Psychology,  Ethics,  and  Logic,  which  explain 
and  illustrate  so  many  of  the  phenomena;*  that  he 
should,  moreover,  study  them,  as  embodied  in  the  prac- 
tice of  the  great  masters  of  the  art.  Inspired  thus  with 
a  noble  ideal  of  his  work,  he  will  gradually  realize  it  in 
his  practice,  and  become  an  accomplished  educator.  He 
will  meet  with  many  difficulties  in  this  self-training,  but 
the  advantages  he  gains  will  more  than  compensate  him. 
None  can  know  better  than  himself — none  so  well — the 
trials,  disappointments,  fainting  of  heart,  and  defeats 
that  his  utmost  skill  cannot  always  turn  into  victories, 
which  he  will  have  to  encounter;  but  then,  on  the  other 
hand,  few  can  know  as  he  does  those  moments  of  won- 

*The  late  Mr.  Fletcher,  Inspector  of  Schools,  thus  enforces  the  same 
doctrine:— "Tlie  intellectual  faculties  can  never  be  exercised  thoroughly 
but  by  men  of  sound  logical  training,  perfect  in  the  art  of  teaching; 
hence  there  exist  so  few  highly-gifted  teachers.  In  fact,  there  are  none 
but  men  of  some  genius  who  are  said  to  have  peculiar  tact,  which  it  is 
impossible  to  imitate;  but  I  am  anxious  to  see  every  part  of  the  fine  art 
of  instruction  redeemed  from  hopeless  concealment  under  such  a  word, 
and  made  the  subject  of  rational  study  and  improved  training." 


76  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION. 

derful  liappiness  which  fall  to  his  lot  when  he  sees  his 
work  going  on  well;  when,  in  the  improved  health,  the 
increased  intellectual  and  moral  power  of  his  pupils,  he 
recognizes  the  result  of  measures. which  he  has  devised, 
of  principles  which  he  lias  learnt  from  the  school  with- 
out, from  the  school  within,  and  from  the  ripe  experi- 
ence and  thought  of  the  fellow-laborers  of  his  craft.  At 
such  moments,  fraught  with  the  spirit  of  the  great  ar- 
tist, who  exclaimed  in  his  enthusiasm,  "  Ed  io  anche  sono 
pittore  ;"  he  also  exclaims,  "And  I  too  am  an  educa- 
t(>r  !  "  This  enthusiasm  will  be  more  common  when  edu- 
cators entertain  a  more  exalted  conception  of  their  pro- 
fession. 

That  the  educator  cannot  fully  realize  his  conception, 
is  no  argument  against  his  keeping  it  constaiitly  in  view, 
to  stimulate  his  zeal  and  guide  his  practice.  The  educa- 
tion of  aims  and  achievements  must,  after  all,  be  an  in- 
determinate one;  but  we  approach  nearer  and  nearer  to 
its  solution,  by  a  high  assumption  for  the  aims.  "We 
strive,"  as  Coleridge  says,  "  to  ascend,  and  we  ascend  in 
our  striving."  Nothing  has  been  said  of  the  value  of 
Physiology,  Psychology,  etc.,  to  the  educator  merely  as 
a  man,  not  as  a  professional  man.  But  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  it  must  be  great.  Nor  have  they  been  pointed  out 
as  subjects  of  direct  instruction  for  his  pupils;  yet  surely 
it  is  important  that  he  should  be  able  to  give  in  his  class- 
es elementary  lessons  on  all  these  subjects,  particularly 
on  Physiology.  The  nomenclature,  at  least,  and  the  ru- 
diments of  Psychology  may  be  advantageously  learned 
by  elder  pupils,  and  the  elements  of  Logic  should  cer- 
tainly form  a  part  of  the  instruction  of  students  of  Eu- 
clid and  grammatical  analysis. 


THE    TEACHER    TRAINED.  77 

But  beyond  the  theoretical  treatment  of  the  Science  of 
Education,  I  have  a  practical  object  in  view.  I  wish  to 
show  that  there  is  a  strong  presumption  that  the  educa- 
tor of  our  day  needs  education  in  his  art.  Individual 
teachers  may  deny  this  for  themselves — they  genex'ally 
do — but  they  freely  admit  it  with  regard  to  their  ri- 
vals in  the  next  street,  or  the  next  town.  Generalize 
this  admission,  and  all  we  ask  for  isgranted.  But  there 
is  a  test  of  a  different  kind  which  disposes  of  the  ques- 
tion— the  test  of  i-esults.  "By  their  fruits  ye  shall 
know  them."  If  the  fruit  is  good,  the  tree  is  good.  If 
the  large  majority  of  schools  are  in  a  satisfactory  con- 
dition, then  the  educator  is  doing  his  work  well;  for 
"  as  is  the  master,  so  is  the  school " — which  means,  to 
speak  technically,  that  the  results  of  a  system  of  educa- 
tion are  not  as  the  capabilities  of  the  pupil,  nor  as  the 
external  school  machinery,  but  as  the  professional  pre- 
paredness of  the  educator.  If,  then,  the  large  majority 
of  schools  are  unsatisfactory,  it  is  because  the  teacher  is 
unsatisfactory.  And  that  they  are  so,  is  proved  by 
every  test  that  can  be  applied.  All  the  Commissions  on 
Education — whether  primary,  secondary,  or  advanced — 
tell  the  same  tale,  pronounce  the  same  verdict  of  failure; 
and  that  verdict  would  have  been  more  decided  had  the 
judges  been  themselves  educators.  Dealing  with  a  sub- 
ject which  they  know  mostly  as  amateurs,  not  as  ex- 
perts, they  are  not  competent  to  estimate  the  results  by 
a  scientific  standard;  they  therefore  reckon  as  good 
much  that  is  really  bad;  for  the  value  of  a  result  in  edu- 
cation mainly  depends  on  the  manner  in  which  it  has 
been  gained.  Yet  even  these  estimators  severally  de- 
clare that  the  educational  machinery  of  this  country  is 


4        78  THEORY    OP    EDUCATION. 

working  immensely  under  the  theoretical  estimate  of  its 
power.  The  "  scandalously  small "  results  of  the  Public 
School  education  are  parallelled  or  exceeded  by  those  of 
the  Middle  Class  and  Primary  Schools;  and  in  cases  of 
primary  schools  where  this  epithet  would  not  apply,  we 
find  that  the  superiority  is  due  to  the  preliminary  train- 
ing of  the  teacher. 

What,  again,  is  to  be  said  of  the  evidence  furnished 
by  such  a  statement  as  the  following,  which  we  extract 
from  the  Athenaeum  of  March  27,  1869: — "  A  petition  was 
last  week  presented  to  the  House  of  Commons  from  the 
Council  of  Medical  Education,  stating  that  the  main- 
tenance of  a  sufficient  medical  education  is  very  difficult, 
owing  to  the  defective  education  given  in  middle  class 
schools.  A  similar  complaint  was  made  in  a  petition 
from  the  British  Medical  Association,  numbering  4,000 
members.  In  a  third  petition,  proceeding  from  the  Uni- 
versity of  London,  it  was  stated  that  during  the  last  10 
years  40  per  cent,  ^it  has  since  been  more  than  50  per 
cent.]  of  the  candidates  at  the  Matriculation  examina- 
tions have  failed  to  satisfy  the  examiners." 

Once  more,  Sir  John  Lefevre,  describing,  in  1861,  the 
mental  condition  of  the  candidates  for  the  Civil  Service 
who  came  before  liim  for  examination,  refers  to  '■  the 
incredible  failures  in  orthography,  the  miserable  writ- 
ing, the  ignorance  of  arithmetic.  "  It  is  comparatively 
rare,"  he  says,  "  to  find  a  candidate  who  can  add  cor- 
rectly a  moderately  long  column  of  figures."  Some 
improvement  has  taken  place,  no  doubt,  during  the  last 
ten  years  under  the  influence  of  the  examination  of  the 
College  of  Preceptors,  and  those  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, but  the  main  difiiculty  remains  much   the  same. 


INEFFICIENCY    OF    PRESENT    TEACHING.  79 

This,  then,  is  the  evidence,  or  rather  a  part  of  the  evi- 
dence which  attests  the  unsatisfactory  results  of  our 
middle-class  teaching.  But  we  repeat,  "  as  are  the  teach- 
ers, so  are  the  schools  ;"  and,  therefore,  without  hesita- 
tion make  the  teachers  directly  responsible  for  these 
results.  Had  they  been  masters  of  their  art,  these  results 
would  have  been  impossible;  and  they  are  not  masters 
of  their  art,  because  they  have  not  studied  its  principles, 
nor  been  scientifically  trained  in  its  practice. 

The  true  remedy  has  been  suggested  by  many  eminent 
men,  not  merely  by  teachers.  It  consists  in  teaching 
•the  teacher  how  to  teach,  in  training  the  trainer,  in  edu- 
cating the  educator. 

Thus,  Dr.  Gull,  after  complaining  of  the  insufficient 
education  of  youths  who  are  to  study  medicine,  said 
(Evidence  before  Schools  Enquiry  Commission)  that 
"  improvement  must  begin  with  the  teachers.  Anyone 
is  allowed  to  teach.  There  is  no  testing  of  the  teachers. 
I  think  he  should  be  examined  as  to  his  power  of  teach- 
ing and  his  knowledge."  "The  subjects  (for  his  pre- 
paration) should  include  the  training  of  tlie  senses,  and 
the  intellect,  and  the  teaching  of  the  moral  relations  of 
man  to  himself  and  his  neighbor."  Mr.  Robson,  in  his 
evidence  before  the  same  Commission,  said,  "  We  should 
require  certificates  of  teachers  showing  that  knowledge 
has  been  attained,  and  also  some  knowledge  of  Mental 
Philosophy  in  connection  with  the  art  of  teaching.  Ev- 
ery teacher  has  to  act  on  the  human  mind,  and  unless  he 
knows  the  best  methods  of  so  acting,  it  is  quite  impossi- 
ble he  can  exercise  his  powers  to  the  best  advantage." 
The  evidence  of  Messrs.  Howson,  Besant,  Goldwin  Smith, 
Best,  and  others,  was  to  the  same  effect. 


80  THEOKY   OF    EDUCATION. 

The  assistant  Commissioners,  Messrs.  Bryce,  Fearon, 
and  especially  Mr,  Fitch,  make  the  same  complaints  of 
the  want  of  training  for  the  teacher.  Mr.  Fitch — who 
has  every  right  to  be  heard  on  such  a  point,  for  he  thor- 
oughly knows  the  subject,  practically  as  well  as  theoreti- 
cally— says,  in  his  report  on  Yorkshire  Endowed  and 
Private  Schools,  "  Nothing  is  more  striking  than  the  very 
general  disregard  on  the  part  of  schoolmasters  of  the 
Art  and  Science  of  Teaching.  Few  have  any  special 
preparation  in  it.  Professional  training  for  middle-class 
schoolmasters  does  not  exist  in  this  country.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  many  of  them  would  gladly  obtain  it,  if  it  were " 
accessible.  But  at  present  it  is  not  to  be  had."  And 
again,  "  It  is  a  truth  very  imperfectly  recognized  by 
teachers,  that  the  education  of  a  youth  depends  not  only 
on  what  he  learns,  but  on  how  he  learns  it,  and  that 
some  power  of  the  mind  is  being  daily  improved  or 
injured  by  the  methods  which  are  adopted  in  teaching 
him."  Mr.  Fitch,  in  another  place,*  also  remarks,  "  We 
all  know  instances  of  men  who  understand  a  subject 
thoroughly,  and  who  are  yet  utterly  incapable  of  teach- 
ing it.  We  have  all  seen  that  waste  of  power  and  loss 
of  time  continually  result  from  the  tentative,  haphazard, 
and  unskilful  devices  to  which  teachers  of  this  kind 
resort.  Yet  we  seem  slow  to  admit  the  obvious  infer- 
ence from  such  experience.  The  art  of  teaching,  like 
other  arts,  must  be  systematically  acquired.  The  pro- 
fession of  a  schoolmaster  is  one  for  which  no  man  is  duly 
qualified  who  has  not  studied  it  thoroughly,  both  in  its 
principles  and  in  their  practical  application." 

The  Rev.  Evan  Daniel,  principal  of  Battersea  Normal 

♦  "  The  Professional  Training  of  Teacliers." 


UXIVERSITY    EDUCATION   INSUFFICIENT.  81 

School,  aptly  describes  the  two  main  classes  of  middle- 
class  teachers.  1st.  University  men,  "not  infrequently 
of  distinguished  ability  and  .scholarship.  Few  of  them, 
however,  have  had  the  advantage  of  professional  train- 
ing. They  enter  on  their  work  with  but  a  slight  knowl- 
edge of  child-lif*^;  they  have  never  studied  the  psycho- 
logical principles  on  which  education  should  be  based; 
they  are  almost  utterly  ignorant  of  the  best  modes  of 
teaching,  of  organizing,  and  of  maintaining  discipline." 
These  are  the  teachers,  rather  the  would-be  teachers, 
who,  as  a  distinguished  Head  Master  told  us  some  time 
ago  in  the  Times,  are  to  be  allowed  to  find  out  their  art 
by  victimizing  their  pupils  for  two  whole  years  before 
they  become  worth  anything  to  their  profession.  But 
Mr.  Daniel  also  refers  to  the  other  class  of  teachers, 
who,  besides  wanting  everything  that  the  former  class 
want,  also  want  their  mental  cultivation,  and  remain 
"  in  a  state  of  intellectual  stagnation,  discharging  their 
duties  in  a  half-hearted  perfunctory  spirit,  and  finding 
them  twice  as  hard  and  disagreeable  as  they  need  be, 
from  the  want  of  suitable  preparation  for  them." 

The  arguments  then  from  theory  and  those  from  facts 
meet  at  this  point,  and  demand  with  united  force  that 
the  educator  shall  be  educated  for  his  profession.  But 
how  is  this  to  be  brought  about  ?  What  is  doing  in 
furtherance  of  this  most  important  object  ?  The  answer 
to  the  question  must  be  brief,  and  shows  rather  tentative 
efforts  than  accomplished  facts. 

1.  The  training  of  teachers  for  primary  schools  is 
going  on  satisfactorily  in  the  Normal  Colleges  of  the 
National  and  British  and  foreign  School  Societies,  so  that 
what  is  asked  for  middle-class  teachers  is  evidently  pos- 

D 


82  THEORY   OF    EDUCATION. 

ible.     They  can  be  trained  into  Letter  teachers  than 
they  are. 

2.  This  training  of  the  middle-class  teachers,  which 
some  decry  as  quackery  and  others  as  useless,  is  actually 
going  on  in  France  and  Germany  most  satisfactorily. 
In  both  countries,  highly  cultivated  and  efficient  educa- 
tors, with  whom  the  majority  of  English  teachers  would 
have  no  chance  of  competing,  are  the  everyday  product 
of  their  respective  systems  of  training. 

3.  Our  Government,  in  the  Educational  Council  Bill, 
for  the  present  withdrawn,  provided  "  that  all  teachers 
of  endowed  schools  should  be  registered,  as  persons 
whose  qualifications  for  teaching  have  been  ascertained 
by  examinations,  or  by  proved  efficiency  in  teaching  on 
evidence  satisfactory  to  the  Council;"  and  that  teachers 
of  private  schools  might  also  be  entered  on  the  registry, 
by  showing  similar  qualifications. 

4.  The  Scholastic  Registration  Association,  having 
for  its  object  "  the  discouragement  of  unqualified  per- 
sons from  assuming  the  office  of  schoolmaster  or 
teacher,"  has  obtained  a  large  share  of  public  approval, 
and  numbers  among  its  members  many  head-masters  of 
public  schools  and  colleges,  as  Drs.  Hornby,  Kennedy, 
Haig-Brown  (President  of  the  Association),  Thring, 
CoUis,  Weymouth,  Schmitz,  Rigg,  Donaldson,  Jones, 
Mitchinson,  the  Revs.  E.  A.  Abbott  and  F.  W.  Farrar, 
and  many  other  distinguished  friends  of  education. 

5.  The  College  of  Preceptors,  too,  by  the  institution 
of  this  Lectureship,  by  the  re-constitution  of  its  Exami- 
nations for  Teachers,  and  by  its  recent  memorial  to  the 
Government  on  Training  Colleges,  is  showing  itself  fully 
alive  to  the  importance  of  the  subject.     Its  new  exarai- 


PRESENT   MEANS   FOR   TRAINING,  83 

nations  have  just  taken  ])lace,  and  candidates  liave  fof 
the  first  time  been  examined  on  the  principles  of  Physi- 
ology, Psychology,  Moral  Philosophy  and  Logic,  and 
their  application  to  the  art  of  teaching,  as  well  on  their 
own  personal  experience  as  educators.  The  results  have 
shown  how  deeply  needed  is  this  knowledge  of  princi- 
ples; out  of  fifteen  candidates  only  three  have  satisfied 
examiners.  We  still  hope,  however,  by  placing  a  high 
standard  before  the  candidates,  and  requiring  an  earnest 
study  of  the  subjects  of  examination,  to  make  our 
diplomas  certificates  of  real  qualification,  as  far  as  writ, 
ten  and  viva  voce  examinations  can  test  it. 

Yet  the  real  desideratum,  after  all,  is  Training  Col- 
leges for  middle-class  teachers,  Professorships  of  Educa- 
tion at  our  leading  Universities,  and  more,  perhaps,  than 
all,  a  nobler  conception  of  education  itself  among  Eng. 
lish  teachers. 


THE  THEORY  OF  EDUCATION-ANALYSIS. 


I.  Preliminary  Considerations. 

1.  Theory  vs.  Practice 49 

2.  Education  and  Instruction  defined 50-53 

(a)  Unconscious  Education 61 

(6)  Conscious  Education 53 

3.  Function  of  the  Educator.. 53 

{a)  Knowledge  of  his  pupils 53 

{b)  Means  adopted  to  direct  them 54 

II.  Justification  oj  the  Science  of  Education 54 

1.  Objections  considered: 

(o)  That  it  is  quackery 55 

ib)  That  it  is  not  "practical" 55 

(c)  That  it  is  not  possible... 57 

2.  Every  act  has  a  scieutific  basis 58 

(a)  Evils  of  routine  teaching 58 

a  The  pupil  a  slave 59 

(5  The  teacher  an  empiric 60 

8.  The  "why  "  as  well  as  the  "what" .60 

4.  Experience  of  others  made  available 61 

III.  Help  afforded  by  the  Science  of  Education 62 

1.  Physical  Education 63 

(a)  Need  of  physiological  knowledge 63 

a  Ventilation 63 

(6)  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body 65 

(c)  Self-education  not  sufficient 67 

2.  Intellectual  Education 67 

{a)  Need  of  Mental  Philosophy 68 

a  Cultivation  of  observing  powers 70 

fi  Instruction  in  Logic 70 

y  Writing,  Reading,  Arithmetic 71 

84 


ANALYSIS.  85 

3.  Moral  Education 72 

{a)  The  child's  natural  impulses 72 

a  Self-love,  /i  Curiosity,  y  Sympathy,  6  Conscience, 

£  Will 72 

(b)  Importance  of  Mental  Philosophy -.73 

a  Objects  of  moral  training 74 

/J  The  teacher  often  the  learner _ 74 

(c)  Object  to  develop  self-action. 75 

IV.   The  Teacher  must  Know  his  Business 76 

1.  The  majority  of  schools  unsatisfactory 76 

2.  Due  to  inefficiency  of  teachers _  -80 

3.  Corrected  only  by  training  of  teachers -80 

(«)  University  education  insufficient 81 

{b)  Present  means  for  training  in  England .  .82 


TEE  PRACTICE  OR  ART  OF  EDUCATION.* 


The  Theory  of  Education,  as  explained  in  the  former 
Lecture,  consists  in  an  appreciation  of  the  influences 
which  must  be  brought  to  bear  intentionally,  consciously, 
and  persistently  on  a  child,  with  a  view  to  instruct  him 
in  knowledge,  develop  his  faculties,  and  train  them  to 
the  formation  of  habits.  It  was  shown  that  this  view 
of  Education  assumes  that  the  educator  must  himself 
study  and  comprehend  the  nature  of  these  influences; 
and  that  this  theoretical  study,  aided  by  the  lessons  of 
experience,  both  personal  and  that  of  others,  constitutes 
his  own  education. 

Assuming,  then,  the  education  of  the  educator  him- 
self, which  involves  a  due  conception  of  the  end  in  view, 
we  have  now  to  consider  some  of  the  means  by  which 
he  has  to  realize  it,  and  this  constitutes  the  Practice  or 
Art  of  Education. 

I  have  already  disclaimed  the  idea  of  attempting  to 
construct  a  symmetrical  science  of  education,  and  am 
not  bound  therefore  to  deduce  a  symmetrical  art  from  a 
theoretical  ideal.  Nor  is  this  necessary;  for  whatever 
may  be  said  of  the  Theory,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
Art  of  Education  exists,  and  that  its  fundamental  prin- 
ciples can  be  evolved  from  its  practice. 

The  Art  of  Education,   strictly  considered,   involves 

♦  Delivered  at  the  House  of  the  Society  of  Arts,  on  14th  July,  1871, 
J.  G.  Fitch,  Esq.,  iu  the  chair. 
86 


LEARNING    IS    SELF-TEA.OHING.  87 

all  the  means  by  which  the  educator  brings  his  influence 
to  bear  on  his  pupils,  :ind  embra(;es  tliereiore  organiza- 
tion, discipline,  school  economics,  tlie  regulation  of 
studies,  etc.  Our  limited  space,  however,  forbids  our 
entering  on  these  matters,  and  the  "  Art  of  Education  " 
will  in  this  lecture  be  considered  as  only  another  term 
for  Teaching  or  Instruction 

If  we  observe  the  process  which  we  call  instruction, 
we  see  two  parties  conjointly  engaged — the  learner  and 
the  teacher.  The  object  of  both  is  the  same,  but  their 
relations  to  the  work  to  be  done  are  different.  Inas- 
raudfh  as  the  object  can  only  be  attained  by  the  mental 
action  of  the  learner,  by  his  observing,  remembering, 
etc.,  it  is  clear  that  what  he  does,  not  what  the  teacher 
does,  is  the  essential  part  of  the  process.  This  essential 
part,  the  appropriation  and  assimilation  of  knowledge 
by  the  mind,  can  be  performed  by  no  one  but  the 
learner;  for  the  teacher  can  no  more  think  for  his  pupil, 
than  he  can  walk,  sleep,  or  digest  for  him.  It  is  then  on  the 
exercise  of  the  pupil's  own  mind  that  his  acquisition  of 
knowledge  entirely  depends,  and  this  subjective  process, 
performed  entirely  by  himself,  constitutes  the  })upil's 
art  of  learning.  If,  however,  every  act  by  which  ideas 
from  without  become  incorpoi-ated  with  the  pupil's 
mind  is  an  act  which  can  only  be  performed  by  the 
pupil  himself,  it  follows  that  he  is  in  fact  his  own 
teacher,  and  we  arrive  at  the  general  proposition,  that 
learning  is  self -teaching .  This  psychological  principle  is  of 
cardinal  importance  in  the  art  of  education.  We  see  at 
once  that  it  defines  the  function  of  the  teacher,  the 
other  party  in  the  process  of  instruction.  It  appears, 
from  what  has  been  just  said,  that  the  only  indispensable 


88  PRA.CTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

part  of  the  process — the  mental  act  by  which  knowledge 
is  acquired — is  the  pupil's,  not  the  teacher's;  and,  indeed, 
that  the  teacher  cannot,  if  he  would,  perform  it  for  the 
puj  il.  On  the  other  hand,  the  experience  of  mankind 
/"shows  that  the  pupil,  how^ever  capable,  would  not  gen- 
erally undertake  his  part  spontaneously,  nor,  if  he  did, 
carry  it  to  a  successful  issue.  The  indispensable  part 
of  the  process  cannot,  it  is  true,  be  done  without  the 
mental  exertion  of  the  pupil,  but  it  is  equally  true  that 
it  will  not  be  done  without  the  action  an<l  influence  of 
the  teacher.  The  teacher'' s  part,  then,  in  the  process  of  instruc- 
tion is  that  of  a  guide,  director,  or  superintendent  of  the  opera- 
tions hy  which  the  pupil  teaches  himself f^ 

As  this  view  of  the  correlation  of  learning  and  teach- 
ing assumes  the  competency  of  the  pupil  to  teach  him- 
self, it  may  of  course  be  theoretically  disputed.  It  is 
important,  then,  to  add  that  the  child  whom  the  teacher 
takes  in  hand  has  already  learned  or  taught  himself  a 
great  number  of  things.  He  has,  in  fact,  learned  the 
use  of  his  senses,  the  qualities  of  matter,  and  the  ele- 
ments of  his  mother-tongue,  without  the  aid  of  any 
professed  teacher.  The  faculties,  however,  by  the  use 
of  which  he  has  made  these  acquisitions,  are  the  same 
that  he  must  employ  in  his  further  acquisitions,  when 
the  action  and  influence  of  natural  circumstances  are 
superseded  by  those  of  the  professed  teacher. 

A  slight  review  of  the  operation  of   these  natural  cir- 


*"  To  teach  boys  how  to  instruct  themselves— that,  after  all,  is  the 
great  end  of  school-work."— Majuchy. 

"The  object  of  all  education  is  to  teach  people  to  tiiink  for  them- 
selves."—"C/nwersiVy  Extension,"  an  Address  delivered  at  the  request  of 
the  Leeds  Ladies'  Education  Associiition,  by  James  Stuart,  Fellow  and 
Assistant  Tutor  of  Trinity  College,  Cunibridge. 


HOW    NATURK    I'EACHES.  89 

cumstances — wbicli  we  nmy  for  convenience'  sake  call 
Nature — vvill  serve  to  suggest  some  of  the  means  by 
which  the  teacher,  as  a  superintendent  of  the  pupil's 
process  of  self-instruction,  is  to  exercise  his  proper  ac- 
tion and  ini3uence. 

How,  then,  does  nature  teach  ?  She  furnishes  knowl- 
edge by  object-lessons,  and  she  trains  the  active  powers 
by  making  them  act.  She  has  given  capability  of  ac- 
tion, and  she  develops  this  capability  by  presenting  oc- 
casions for  its  exercise.  She  makes  her  pupil  learrn  to 
do  by  doing,  to  live  by  living.  She  gives  him  no  gram- 
mar of  seeing,  hearing,  etc.;  she  gives  him  no  compen- 
diums  of  abstract  principles.  She  would  stop  his  pro- 
gress at  the  very  threshold,  if  she  did.  Action!  action! 
is  her  maxim  of  training;  and  things!  things!  are  the 
objects  of  of  her  lessons.  She  adopts  much  repetition  in 
her  teaching,  in  order  that  the  difficulty  may  become 
easy,  "use  becomes  a  second  nature."  Tn  physical  train- 
ing, "  use  legs  and  have  legs,"  is  one  of  her  maxims,  and 
she  acts  analogously,  in  regard  to  mental  and  moral 
training.  She  teaches  quietly.  She  does  not  continu- 
ally interrupt  her  pupil,  even  when  he  blunders,  by  out- 
cries and  objurgations.  She  bides  her  time,  and  by 
prompting  him  to  continued  action,  and  inducing  him 
to  think  about  what  he  is  doing,  and  correct  his 
errors  himself,  makes  his  very  blunders  fruitful  in 
instruction.  She  does  not  anxiously  intervene  to  pre- 
vent the  consequences  of  his  actions;  she  allows  him  co 
experience  them,  that  he  may  learn  prudence;  some- 
times even  letting  him  burn  his  lingers,  that  he  may 
gain  at  once  a  significant  lesson  in  physics,  and  also 
learn  the  moral  lesson  involved  in  the  ministry   of  pain. 


90  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATlOlSr. 

These  are  some  of  the  features  of  Nature's  Art  of 
Education,  and  they  are  all  consistent  with  the  assump- 
tion that  throughout  her  course  of  instruction  the  pupil 
is  teaching  himself. 

We  infer,  then,  from  these  considerations,  that  the 
child  whose  instruction  is  to  be  secured  by  the  guidance 
of  the  teacher  has  already  shown  his  capacity  to  learn, 
and  to  learn,  moreover,  without  explanations.  We  remark, 
further,  that  an  accurate  analysis  of  this  process  of  self- 
tuition,  based  on  the  combined  observations  and  experi- 
ments of  teachers  carefully  noted  and  compared  to- 
gether, and  generalized  into  principles  of  education,  will, 
no  doubt,  in  time  to  come,  furnish  the  true  canons  of 
the  art  of  teaching,  or,  in  other  words,  that  the  pupil's 
subjective  process  of  learning,  when  thoroughly  under- 
stood, will  suggest,  with  proper  limitations,  the  teach- 
er's counterpart  objective  process  of  teaching. 

The  principle  I  am  contending  for — that  the  child  is 
capable  of  teaching  himself  withoi;t  explanations — is  in- 
deed very  generally  acknowledged  in  word  by  teachers, 
who  also  very  generally  repudiate  it  in  fact.  They  al- 
low that  it  is  not  what  they  do  for  their  pupil,  but  what 
he  does  for  himself,  that  gives  him  strength  and  inde- 
pendent force  :  but  the  multitude  of  directions,  pre- 
cepts, warnings,  exhortations,  and  explanations,  with 
which  tbey  bewilder  and  enfeeble  him,  neutralizes  their 
theoretical  acknowledgment  of  the  principle.  Let  such 
teachers  say  what  they  will,  they  virtually  deny  the  pu- 
pil's native  capacity;  they  act  on  the  belief  that  he  can- 
not learn  without  explanations,  and  especially  without 
their  explanations. 

This  question  of  the  necessity  of  explanations  is  a  vi 


HOW    NATURE    TEACHES.  91 

tal  point  in  our  argument,  and  needs  further  discussion. 
Explaining  is  "  flattening,"  or  "  making  level,"  "  clearing 
the  ground"  so  as  to  produce  an  even  surface;  and, 
when  applied  to  teaching,  as  generally  understood, 
means  removing  obstructions  out  of  the  way,  so  as  to 
make  the  subject  clear  to  the  pupil,  and  generally  to  do 
this  by  verbal  discourse. 

But  (1),  we  notice  that  Nature,  who  makes  her  pupil 
teach  himself  gives  no  explanations  of  this  kind.  She 
does  not  explain  the  diiference  between  hard  and  soft 
objects — she  says,  feel  them;  between  this  and  that  fact 
— she  says,  place  them  side  by  side,  and  mark  the  differ- 
ence yourself;  and  generally  she  says  to  her  pupil,  don't 
ask  me  to  tell  you  any  thing  that  you  can  find  out  for 
yourself. 

(2)  The  question  of  explanations  essentially  involves 
those  of  the  order  of  studies  and  the  method  of  teach- 
ing. If  the  subject  is  unsuited  to  the  pupil's  stage  of 
instruction,  or  if,  instead  of  presenting  him  with  facts 
which  he  can  understand,  we  force  upon  him  abstractions 
which  he  cannot,  we  create  the  need  for  explanations; 
and  in  this  case  it  is  not  merely  probable,  but  certain, 
that  most  of  them,  however  elaborate,  will  be  thrown 
away.  We  are,  in  fact,  calling  on  the  immature  facul- 
ties for  an  effort  which  is  beyond  the  strength  of  the 
ti-ained  intellect;  for  the  man  has  never  lived  who  cnn 
understand  an  abstract  general  proposition  while  utterly 
ignorant  of  the  facts  on  which  it  is  ultimately  founded. 
But  supposing  that  we  admit  the  value  of  explanations 
generally,  and  that  the  explanations  given  are  admirably 
clear  in  themselves,  their  value  to  the  individual  pupil 
will   depend,  not  on  their   absolute  excellenqe,  but    on 


92  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

their  relation  to  the  condition  of  his  mind.  Unless, 
then,  the  teacher  has  well  studied  that  mind,  so  as  to 
know  its  individual  history,  its  actual  condition,  and  its 
needs,  much  of  his  explanation  will  "  waste  its  sweet- 
ness on  the  desert  air."  Tliat  portion  only  will  be  re- 
ceived and  assimilated  for  which  the  previous  instruc- 
tion has  prepared  the  mind,  and  all  the  rest  will  flow 
away  and  leave  no  impression  whatever  behind  it.  And, 
in  general,  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  practical  principle 
of  teaching,  that  long  elaborate  explanations  are  entirely 
out  of  place  in  a  class  of  children.  They  do  not  gener- 
ally quicken,  but  rather  quell,  attention.  The  children, 
indeed,  consider  that,  though  it  may  be  the  teacher's 
duty  to  preach,  it  is  no  necessary  part  of  theirs  to  heed 
the  preaching.  This  work,  as  they  generally  take  it,  is 
the  proper  occasion  for  their  play;  and  this  play,  with- 
out outward  manifestation,  may  be  going  on  uproarious- 
ly in  that  inner  playground  where  the  teacher  cannot 
set  his  foot.  Rousseau,  in  his  interesting  if  somewhat 
romantic  "  Emile,"  gives  the  following  opinion  on  this 
subject — I  adopt  Mr.  Quick's  translation: — "  I  do  not  at 
all  admire  explanatory  discourses;  youn'4  people  give 
little  attention  to  them,  and  never  retain  them.  Things! 
things!  I  can  never  enough  repeat  it,  that  we  make 
words  of  too  much  consequence.  With  our  prating 
modes  of  education,  we  make  nothing  but  praters." 

Now  in  these  cases  the  teacher  fails  because  he  does 
not  follow  Nature.  The  pupils  for  whom  he  "clears 
the  ground  "  would  have  cleared  it  themselves  if  he  had 
known  how  to  direct  them,  and  would  have  been  the 
stronger  for  the  exercise. 

Having  thus  indicated  Nature's  art  of  teaching,  as,  in 


FAULTS    IX    NATUKE's    TEACHING.  93 

a  general  way,  the  archetype  of  tlie  educator's,  it  is  im- 
portant now  to  say  that  it  is  not  to  be  implicitly  followed. 

(1.)  Nature's  teaching  is  desultory.  She  mingles  lessons 
in  physics,  hinguage,  morality,  all  together.  Her  main 
business  seems  to  be  the  training  of  faculty,  and  slie 
subordinates  to  this  the  orderly  acquisition  of  knowledge 
by  her  pupils.  We  are  to  imitate  Natnre  in  training 
faculty,  but  with  n  definite  aim  as  regards  subjects. 

(2.)  Nature^  teaching  is  often  inaccurate;  not,  however, 
from  any  defect  in  her  method,  but  from  inherite<l  defects 
in  her  pupils.  If  she  has  not  originally  given  a  sound 
brain,  she  does  not  generally  herself  improve  upon  her 
handiwork.  The  impressions  received  by  a  feeble  brain 
become  blurred,  imperfect  conceptions,  and  Nature 
often  leaves  them  so.  It  is  the  educator's  business, 
however,  to  endeavor  to  impr  )ve  upon  her  labors, — to 
ascertain  the  original  fault,  and  by  apt  exercises  to 
amend  it. 

(3.)  Nature's  teaching  often  appears  to  be  overdone.  S!ie 
gives  ten  thousand  exercises  to  develop  faculty,  but  she 
continues  to  give  them  when  that  purpose  is  answered. 
The  educator  is  to  imitate  her  in  very  frequently  repeat, 
inij  his  lessons,  but  to  cease  when  the  object  is  gainetl. 

(4.)  Nature  does  not  secure  the  results  of  her  lessons  tvith  a 
direct  aim  to  mental  and  moral  improvement.  She  exercises 
various  powers  to  a  certain  extent  and  with  certain  ob- 
jects; but  she  does  not  prompt  to  their  improvement 
beyond  this  point,  nor  exercise  them  equally  upon  ob- 
jects uncoimected  with  animal  wants  and  instincts.  We 
are  to  imitate  Nature,  in  gaining  such  results  for  our 
pupils  as  she  gains,  but  we  are  to  go  beyond  her  in 


94  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

securing  tliese  results  as  a  means  to  the  attainment  of  a 
higher  platform  of  knowledge  and  power. 

(5.)  Nature  accustoms  her  pupils  to  little,  and  that  the  sim- 
plest, generalization.  For  any  care  that  she  takes,  the 
materials  suitable  for  this  process  may  remain  unquick- 
ened  throughout  the  whole  of  a  man's  life.  The  educator 
18  to  imitate  Nature  in  prompting  his  j^upils  to  general- 
ize on  facts,  but  to  surpass  her  in  carrying  them  forward 
in  practice. 

(6.)  Nature  is  relentless  in  her  discipline.  She  takes  no 
account  of  extenuating  circumstances.  To  disobey  is  to 
die.  She  not  only  punishes  the  offender  for  his  offence, 
but  often  makes  him  suffer  for  the  offences  of  others. 
She  involves  him  in  all  the  consequences  of  his  actions, 
and  often  gives  him  no  oi)portunity  for  repentance.  The 
educator,  on  the  other  hand,  while  allowing  his  pupil  to 
be  visited  by  the  consequences  of  his  actions,  is  to  pre- 
vent ruinous  consequences — to  give  him  room  for  repent- 
ance, to  love  the  offender  while  punishing  the  offence, 
and  to  allow  for  extenuating  circumstances. 

Nature's  teaching,  then,  while  in  general  the  model  of 
the  educator's,  requires  adaptation,  extension,  and  cor- 
rection, in  order  to  make  the  best  use  of  it.  The  old 
adage,  "Art  improves  Nature,"  applies  undoubtedly  to 
the  art  of  education:  a  truth  which  even  Pestalozzi — 
certainly  himself  a  choice  specimen  of  Nature's  teach- 
ing, a  head  boy  in  her  school — failed,  as  we  shall  see,  to 
appreciate. 

The  upshot  of  what  has  been  said  hitherto  is  this,  that 
the  natural  process  by  which  the  mind  acquires  knowl- 
edge and  })0wer  is  a  process  of  self-education, — that  the 
educator  should  recognize  that  process  as  a  guide  to  his 


GOOD    TEACHING    ILLUSTRATED.  95 

practice,  suggesting  both  what  be  sbould  aim  at  and 
what  be  sbould  avoid.  To  tbis  it  is  very  important  to 
add,  tbat  bis  success  in  carrying  out  bis  object  will 
greatly  depend  upon  bis  being  furnisbed  witb  the  re- 
sources of  bis  science.  A  thousand  unforeseen  difficul- 
ties, arising  from  the  individual  personal  characteristics 
of  his  pupils,  will  occur  in  the  progress  of  his  work,  and 
demand  the  exercise  of  his  utmost  skill  and  moral  courage 
for  their  treatment.  It  is  here,  quite  as  much  as  in  the 
normal  action  of  the  machinery  that  he  is  directing,  that 
the  value  of  bis  own  education  as  an  educator  will  be 
found.  It  is  the  "unusual  circumstances"  referred  to 
by  Mr,  Grove,  that  call  for  that  "  plasticity  " — that  mul- 
tiform power  of  applying  principles,  which  distinguishes 
the  scientifically  trained  from  the  routine  teacher. 

I  will  now  illustrate  ray  subject  by  presenting  two 
typical  specimens  of  the  Art  of  Teaching.  In  the  first 
the  teacher  fully  recognizes  the  competency  of  his  pupils 
to  learn  or  teach  themselves  without  any  explanations 
whatever  from  him,  and,  accordingly  he  gives  them 
none;  at  the  same  time,  however,  he  earnestly  employs 
himself  in  directing  the  forces  under  his  command,  and 
sees  in  the  self-instruction  of  his  pupils,  the  result  of  his 
action  and  influence.  In  the  second  instance  the  teacher 
acts  on  the  presumption  tbat  the  pupil's  success  depends 
rather  on  what  is  done  for  him  than  on  what  he  does  for 
himself. 

Suppose  that  the  object  be  to  give  a  lesson  on  a  sim- 
ple machine — say  the  pile-driving  machine — in  its  least 
elaborate  form.  I  scarcely  need  say  tliat  it  consists  of 
two  strong  uprights,  well  fastened  into  a  solid,  broad 
block  of  wood,  as  a  basis,  and  supplied    with  two  thick 


96  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

ropes,  one  on  each  side,  which  are  laid  over  pulleys  at 
the  top  of  the  nprifijhts,  and  employed  to  draw  up  a 
heavy  mass  of  iron,  tlie  fall  of  which  on  the  head  of  the 
pile  drives  it  into  the  earth.  Two  or  three  men  at  each 
rope  supply  the  motive  power. 

Let  a  large  working  model  of  the  machine  be  so  placed 
that  all  the  pupils  of  the  class  may  see  and  have  access 
to  it.  The  teacher's  object  is  to  make  this  machine  the 
means  of  communicating  knowledge  and  of  drawing 
forth  their  intellectual  powers.  He  has  no  need  to  tell 
them  to  look  at  it.  The  image  of  it,  as  a  whole,  is  at 
once  impressed  upon  tluar  minds.  The  teacher  need  not 
tax  his  ingenuity  to  devise  methods  for  gaining  their 
attention.  Their  attention  is  already  on  the  full  stretch. 
Their  curiosity  is  largely  excited — their  eyes  wide  open, 
and  "unsatisfied  with  seeing." — "What  can  it  be? 
What  will  it  do?"  He  tells  them  the  purpose  of  it, 
and  nothing  more, — "  It  is  a  contrivance  for  driving 
piles  into  the  ground."  They  are  eager  to  see  it  in 
action. 

It  is  now  at  rest,  the  weight  resting  on  the  head  of 
the  pile.  The  teacher  directs  two  of  the  children,  one 
on  each  side,  to  lay  hold  of  the  ropes  and  pull  up  the 
weight,  telling  the  class  that  the  weight  is  called  a  mon- 
key — a  fact  which  they  will  certainly  remember.  [Names 
and  conventionalities  which  they  cannot  find  out  for 
themselves,  he  must,  of  coun'^e,  tell  them;  but  telling  of 
this  kind  is  not  explanation  ]  Well,  the  monkey  is  drawn 
up  gradually,  until  the  clutch  relaxes  its  hold,  and  down 
it  falls,  to  their  immense  delight.  This  is  the  first 
experiment.  Let  all  the  children  try  it — all  pull  up  the 
weight  with  their  own  hands,  and  gain  an  idea,  by  per- 


THE    PUPILS    EXPERIMENT,  97 

soiKil,  individual  experience,  of  the  resistance  of  the 
weight.  This  experience  involves  muscular  sensibility, 
sensation,  and  a  rudimentary  notion  of  force.  The  chil- 
dren by  this  time,  have  an  idea  of  the  machine,  and 
begin  to  conceive  the  relaticm  between  the  end  and  the 
means — between  the  pro])lem  to  be  solved  and  the  means 
of  solving  it.  The  pile  evidently  gives  way  under  the 
repeated  blows  of  the  monkey.  Let  the  monkey  be 
weighed,  and  another  substituted  heavier  or  lighter. 
What  is  the  result  now  ?  Use  the  measuring  scale  to 
see  exactly  how  much  the  pile  moves  under  the  different 
weights.  Why  are  the  results  different  ?  [These  me- 
clianical  acts  of  weighing  and  measuring  exactly  are  not 
to  be  despised;  they  are  fraught  with  practical  instruc- 
tion], Next,  let  the  height  from  which  the  weight  falls 
be  gradually  varied,  until  there  is  no  height,  and  the 
weight  merely  rests  on  the  head  of  the  pile,  as  at  first. 
What  is  gained  by  the  motion  of  the  weight  ?  Try  the 
experiment  many  times — ^weigh,  measure,  judge.  When 
is  weight  acting  alone  ? — when  along  with  motion  ?  The 
children  form  a  conception  for  themselves  of  momentum; 
and  wh«n  the  thing  is  understood  the  technical  name 
may  be  given.  Next,  let  the  weight  be  detached  and 
placed  on  an  inclined  plane — a  slanting  board.  Why 
does  it  move  now  less  easily  than  it  did  when  it  was 
free  ?  Alter  the  inclination;  try  all  possible  varieties  of 
slope.  When  is  the  motion  easiest  ?  The  pupils  gain 
the  idea  oi  friction,  and  may  have  the  name  given  them. 
Let  the  clutch  be  examined.  How  does  it  act?  Why 
hold  the  weight  so  firmly  at  one  moment  and  let  it  go 
the  next  ?  Try  the  experiment,  handle  it,  attach  it  to 
the  weight?     Do<s  it   hold  the  weight  firmly?     Why 


98  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

does  it  let  the  weight  go  at  the  right  moment  ?  Again, 
suppose  the  weight  were  made  of  wood,  lead,  putty, 
etc.,  instead  of  iron.  Try  these  substances  for  the 
weight.  Why  are  they  less  suitable  for  the  purpose 
than  iron  ? 

Attach  weights  to  the  ropes,  and  see  whether  they 
may  be  so  contrived  as  to  supersede  the  manual  labor. 
What  are  the  difficulties  in  doing  this  ?  Can  they  be 
overcome  ?  What  is  the  use  of  the  pulleys  ?  Remove 
them,  and  pull  at  the  ropes  without  them.  What  dif- 
ference is  there  now  in  the  ease  of  motion. 

Could  any  one  devise  another  machine  for  driving 
piles,  or  any  other  contrivance  for  doing  the  work  of 
this  better  ?  Let  every  one  think  of  this  before  the  next 
lesson,  and  bring  his  model  with  him.  The  teacher  suras 
up  the  rcvsults  of  the  lesson,  and  tells  the  pnpils  to  write 
them  down  before  hira.  He  examines  their  papers,  and 
makes  them  correct  the  blunders  themselves.  The  les- 
son is  concluded. 

Now  in  this  lesson  we  have  a  typical  specimen  of  the 
self-teaching  of  the  pupils  under  the  superintendence  of 
the  teacher.  If  teaching  means,  as  stated  in  books  on 
the  subject,  the  communication  of  knowledge  by  the 
explanations  of  the  teache]",  he  has  taught  them  noth- 
ing. Of  that  kind  of  teaching  Avhich  Mr.  Wilson  of 
Rugby  calls  "the  most  stupid  and  most  didactic" — 
meaning  that  the  most  didactic  is  the  most  stupid — we 
have  here  not  a  trace.  The  teacher  has  recognized  his 
true  function  as  simply  a  director  of  the  mental  machin- 
ery which  is,  in  fact,  to  do  all  the  work  itself;  for  it  is 
not  he,  but  his  pupils,  that  have  to  learn,  and  to  learn  by 
the  exercise   of  their  own    minds.     He  has  constituted 


THE    TEACHER    ONLY    A    DIRECTOR.  99 

himself,  therefore,  as  (if  tlie  expression  may  be  pardoned) 
a  sort  of  outside  will  and  mind,  to  act  on  and  co-operate 
with  the  wills  and  mindsof  his  pupils.  He  is  the  ;?rmM/rt 
mobile  which  sets  the  machinery  in  motion,  and  maintains 
and  regulates  the  motion;  but  the  work  that  it  does,  the 
results  that  it  gains,  are  not  his  work  nor  his  results,  but 
the  machinery's.  In  the  case  of  the  human  machinery — 
the  children's  minds,  whicli  are  not  dead  matter,  but 
living  organisms — he  has  had  to  supply  motives  to 
action,  sympathy  and  encouragement — to  apply,  indeed 
all  the  resources  of  his  science.  But  still  he  is  simply 
the  superintendent  or  director  of  the  operations  which 
constitute  the  learning  or  self-teaching  of  the  pupils; 
and  the  intrusion  of  those  explanations,  which  some  con- 
sider the  essence  of  teaching,  would  have  hindered  and 
frustrated  the  efficiency  of  those  operations.  For,  in 
the  case  before  us,  why  should  he  explain,  and  what  has 
he  to  explain  ?  The  machine  is  its  own  interpreter.  It 
answers  those  who  interrogate  it  in  the  emphatic  and 
eloquent  language  of  facts — a  language  which  the  chil- 
dren understand  without  explanations;  and  it  practises 
them  abundantly  in  what  Professor  Huxley  aptly  calls 
ihe  "  logic  of  experiment;  "  and  if  it  says  nothing  about 
abstractions  and  first  principles,  w^hich  they  could  not 
comprehend,  it  lays  before  them  the  proper  groundwork 
for  these  mental  deductions,  ready  for  the  superstruct- 
ure of  science  when  the  proper  time  comes.  And  until 
this  groundwork  of  facts  is  laid,  the  teacher  may  strain 
his  mind  and  break  his  heart  in  his  anxiety  to  give 
explanations.  In  fact,  none  that  he  can  give  will  be 
equal  in  value  to  those  given  silently,  powerfidly,  and 
effectually  by  the  machine  itself.     It  is  clear,  then,  that 


100  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

nothing  would  be  gained  by  his  explanations,  and  that 
they  are  therefore  unnecessary. 

Without  dwelling  now  on  all  the  poinj^  of  interest 
contained  in  the  lesson  that  I  have  described,  which 
will  be  suminai'ized  hereafter,  I  invite  attention  espe- 
cially to  two  or  three. 

(1.)  We  notice  the  pleasureable  feeling  of  the  children 
thus  actively  engaged  in  the  free  exercise  of  their  own 
powers — seeing,  handling,  experimenting,  discovering, 
investigating,  and  inventing  for  themselves.  This  feel- 
ing will,  by  the  necessary  laws  of  association,  always 
accompany  the  remembrance  of  the  lesson.  Is  not  this 
in  itself  an  immense  gain  both  for  teacher  and  pupils? 

But  (2)  there  is  another  very  important  gain  for  the 
pupils  educating  themselves.  It  is  an  approved  principle 
of  the  science  of  education  that  it  should  be  the  aim  of 
the  educator  not  merely  to  train  faculty,  but  to  induce 
in  his  pupils  the  power  of  exercising  it  without  his  aid — 
in  other  words,  to  make  the  ])upils  independent  of  the 
teacher.  Noav,  if  as  in  the  case  before  us,  the  children 
have  gained  their  knowledge  by  the  exercise  of  their 
own  faculties — have  observed,  experimented,  etc.,  for 
themselves,  they  cannot  but  have  gained  a  rudimentary 
consciousness  that  they  could,  with(>ut  the  teacher,  go 
through  the  same  process  in  acquiring  the  knowledge  of 
another  machine.  This  consciousness  of  power,  may,  as 
I  have  said,  be,  at  the  end  of  the  first' lesson,  merely 
rudimentary;  but  it  will  gain  strength  as  they  proceed, 
and  the  final  result  of  such  teaching  will  be  that  they 
will  acquire  the  valuable  habit  of  independent  mental 
self-direction.  An  eminent  Fiench  teacher  used  to  be 
laughed  at  for  saying  that  he  was  continually  aiming  to 


PUPILS    BECOME    DISCOVERERS.  101 

make  himself  useless  to  his  pupils.  The  silly  laughers 
thought  that  he  had  made  a  blunder,  and  meant  to  say 
— useful.     But  they  were  the  blunderers. 

(3.)  It  is  a  noticeable  point  in  the  process  described 
that  it  led  the  children  to  discover,  investigate,  and 
invent  on  their  own  account.  They  were  continually 
conscious  of  the  pleasure  of  finding  things  out  for  them- 
selves. They  were  continually  making  advances,  how- 
ever feeble,  in  the  very  path  that  the  first  discoverers  of 
knowledge  of  the  same  kind,  and  indeed  of  every  kind, 
had  trod  before  them.  Though  only  little  children, 
they  were  unconsciously  adopting  the  method  of  the 
scientific  investigator,  nnd  becoming  trained,  though  as 
yet  but  very  imperfectly,  in  his  spirit.  Should  they  sub- 
sequently iiive  themselves  up  to  scientific  inquiry,  they 
will  not  change  their  method,  for  it  is  even  now  essen- 
tially that  of  scientific  investigation.  The  value  of  this 
plan  of  learning  is  aptly  pointed  out  in  a  well-known 
passage  from  Burke's  essay  on  "The  Sublime  and  Beau- 
tiful." "  I  am  convinced,"  he  says,  "  that  the  method 
of  teaching  [or  learning]  which  approaches  most  nearly 
to  the  method  of  investigation  is  incomparably  the  best; 
since,  not  content  with  serving  up  a  few  barren  and  life- 
less truths  [such  as  abstractions,  general  propositions, 
formulae,  etc.],  it  leads  to  the  stock  on  which  they  grew; 
it  tends  to  set  the  reader  [or  learner]  himself  on  the 
track  of  invention,  and  to  direct  him  into  those  paths  in 
which  the  author  [or  scientific  investigator]  has  made 
his  own  discoveries."  It  is  obvious  that  our  children, 
engaged  in  investigating  and  discovering  for  themselves, 
were  precisely  in  the  position,  with  regard  to  their  sub- 
ject, which  is  described  in  these  words. 


102  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

But  their  native  inventive  faculty  was  also  exercised. 
They  would  be  sure,  before  the  next  lesson,  to  take  the 
hint  given  them  by  the  teacher,  and  would  be  ready  with 
various  contrivances  for  modifying  the  pile-driving 
machine.  When  I  say  this  I  speak  from  experience,  not 
conjecture.  1  have  myself,  when  engaged  in  readin_^  a 
simple  narrative  with  a  class  of  children,  and  meeting 
with  a  reference  to  some  gate  to  be  burst  open  by 
mechanical  means,  or  some  bridge  to  be  extemporized 
in  a  difficult  emergency,  simply  said,  "  try  to  invent  a 
contrivance  for  accomplishing  these  objects,  and  show 
me  to-7norrow  your  notions  by  a  drawing  and  descrip- 
tion," and  have  never  failed  to  receive  a  number  of  rude 
sketches  of  schemes  more  or  less  suited  to  the  purpose, 
but  all  showing  the  intense  interest  excited  by  the  devo- 
tion of  their  minds  to  the  object.  [  am  persuaded  that 
teachers  generally  overlook  half  the  powers  latent  in 
the  minds  of  their  pupils;  they  do  not  credit  children 
with  the  possession  of  them,  and  therefore  fail  to  call 
them  out.  An  instructive  instance  of  a  different  mode 
of  proceeding  is  furnished  by  the  experience  of  Profes- 
sor Tyndall,  when  he  was  a  teacher  in  Queenwood 
School.  The  quotation  is  rather  long,  but  it  is  too  val- 
uable to  be  omitted.  "  One  of  the  duties,"  he  says,  in 
his  Lecture  at  the  Royal  Institution,  On  the  Study  of 
Physics  as  a  branch  of  Education,  "  was  the  instruction 
of  a  class  in  mathematics,  and  I  usually  found  that 
Euclid,  and  the  ancient  geometry  generally,  when 
addressed  to  the  understanding,  formed  a  very  attract- 
ive study  for  youth.  But  [mark  the  hut .']  it  was  my 
habitual  practice  to  withdi'aw  the  boys  from  the  routine 
of  the  book,  and  to  appeal  to   their  self-])0wer  in  the 


PROF.    TYNDALL^S    EXPERIMENT.  103 

treatment  of  questions  not  comprehended  in  that  routine. 
At  first  the  change  from  the  beaten  track  usually  excited 
a  little  aversion;  the  youth  felt  like  a  child  among 
sti-angers;  but  in  no  single  instance  have  I  found  this 
aversion  to  continue.  When  utterly  disheartened,  I  have 
encouraged  the  boy  by  that  anecdote  of  Newton,  where  he 
attributes  the  difference  between  him  and  other  men  main- 
ly to  his  own  patience;  or  of  Mirabeau,  when  he  ordered 
his  servant,  who  had  stated  something  to  be  impossible, 
never  to  use  that  stupid  word  again.  Thus  cheered,  he 
has  returned  to  his  task  with  a  smile,  which  perhaps  had 
something  of  doubt  in  it,  but  which  nevertheless  evinced 
a  resolution  to  try  again.  I  have  seen  the  boy's  eye 
brighten,  and  at  length,  with  a  pleasure  of  which  the 
ecstacy  of  Archimedes  was  but  a  simple  expansion, 
heard  him  exclaim,  '  I  have  it,  sir  ! '  The  consciousness 
of  self-power  thus  awakened  was  of  immense  value;  and 
animated  by  it,  the  progress  of  the  class  was  truly  aston- 
ishing. It  was  often  my  custom  to  give  the  boys  their 
choice  of  pursuing  their  propositions  in  the  book,  or  of 
trying  their  strength  at  others  not  found  there.  Never 
in  a  single  instance  have  I  known  the  book  to  be  chosen. 
I  was  ever  ready  to  assist  when  I  deemed  help  needful, 
but  my  offers  of  assistance  were  habitually  declined. 
The  boys  had  tasted  the  sweets  of  intellectual  conquest, 
and  demanded  victories  of  their  own.  I  have  seen  their 
diagrams  scratched  on  the  walls,  cut  into  the  beams  of 
the  play-ground,  and  numberless  other  illustrations  of 
the  living  interest  they  took  in  the  subject ....  The 
experiment  was  successful,  and  some  of  the  most  delight- 
ful hours  of  my  existence  have  been  spent  in  marking 
the  vigorous   and  cheerful  expansion   of  mental  power 


104  PRACTICE    OF    EDtrCATION. 

when  ai)pealed  to  in  the  manner  I  have  described." 
Tliis  is  indeed  a  striking  ilhistration  of  the  true  art  of 
teaching,  as  consisting  in  the  mental  and  moral  direc- 
tion of  the  pupil's  self-education;  and  the  result  every 
one  can  see,  was  the  acquisition  of  something  far  more 
valuable  than  the  knowledge  of  geometry.  They  gained, 
as  an  acquisition  for  life,  a  knowledge  of  tiiemselves,  a 
conciousness  of  both  mental  and  moral  power,  which  all 
the  didactic  teaching  in  the  world  could  never  have 
given  them.  All  teachers  should  learn,  and  practise, 
the  lesson  conveyed  by  such  an  example  of  teaching  as 
this. 

jNow  taking  the  former  instance  as  a  typical  specimen 
of  the  art  of  teaching,  let  us  consider  what  is  involved 
in  it,  and  gather  from  it  a  confirmation  of  the  views 
already  given  of  the  relation  of  the  educator  to  his 
pupils,  of  the  Science  of  P-^ducation  to  the  Art. 

We  see  (1)  that  the  pupil,  teaching  himself  under  the 
direction  of  the  educator,  begins  with  tangible  and  con- 
crete facts  which  he  can  comprehend,  not  with  abstract 
principles  which  he  cannot.  He  sees,  handles,  experi- 
ments upon  the  machine;  observes  what  it  is,  what  it 
does,  draws  his  own  conclusions;  and  thus  healthfully 
exercise  his  senses,  his  powers  of  observation,  his  judg- 
jnent;  and  prepares  himself  for  understanding,  at  the 
proper  time,  general  propositions  founded  on  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  has  acquired. 

(2.)  That,  in  teaching  himself — in  gaining  his  knowl- 
edge— he  employs  a  method,  the  analytical,  which  lies 
in  his  own  power,  not  the  synthetical,  which  would  re- 
quire the  teacher's  exj^lanations;  yet  that  he  employs 
also   the   synthetical,    when    called   on   to   exercise    his 


POINTS    TO    BE    CONSIDERED.  105 

combining-  and  constructive  faculty.  He  employs  the 
analytical  niotliot]  in  resolving  the  machine  into  its  parts, 
its  actions  into  their  several  constituents  and  m^ans; 
and  the  synthetical  when  he  uses  the  knowledge  thus 
gained,  for  interpreting  other  parts  and  other  actions  of 
the  machine,  and  when  he  applies  this  knowledge  to  the 
invention  of  other  contrivances  not  actually  contem- 
plated by  the  machine-maker. 

(3.)  That,  in  being  made  a  discoverer  and  explorer  on 
his  own  account,  and  not  merely  a  passive  recipient  of 
the  results  of  other  people's  discoveries,  he  not  only 
gains  mental  power,  but  finds  a  pleasui'e  in  the  discov- 
eries made  by  himself,  which  he  could  not  find  in  those 
made  by  others. 

(4.)  That  in  teaching  himself,  instead  of  being  taught 
by  the  explanations  of  the  teacher,  he  proceeds,  and  can 
only  proceed,  in  exact  proportion  to  his  strength,  gain- 
ing increased  knowledge  just  at  the  time  that  he  wants 
it — at  the  very  moment  when  the  increment  will  natur- 
ally become,  to  use  a  happy  expression  of  Mr,  Fitch, 
"incorporated  with  the  organic  life  of  his  mind."  It  is 
needless  to  add,  that  he  advances  in  this  self-teaching, 
from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  for  the  process  he  em- 
ploys leaves  no  other  course  oj^en  to  him, 

(5.)  That,  in  teaching  himself  in  this  way,  he  learns 
to  reason  both  on  the  relation  of  facts  and  the  relation 
of  ideas  to  each  other:  and  that  thus  the  "  logic  of 
experiment"  leuds  him  to  the  logic  of  thought. 

(6.)  That,  in  this  process  of  self-teaching,  he  acquires 
a  fund  of  knowledge  and  of  mental  conceptions,  which, 
by  the  natural  association  of  ideas,  forms  the  ground- 
work  or  nucleus  to  which  other  knowledge  and  other 


106  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

conceptions  of  the  same  kind  will  subsequently  attach 
themselves;  the  machine  which  he  knows,  becoming  a 
sort  of  alphabet  of  mechanics,  by  means  of  which  he  will 
be  able  to  read  and  understand,  in  some  degree,  other 
machines. 

(7.)  That  the  knowledge,  thus  gained  by  the  action 
of  his  own  mind,  will  be  clear  and  accurate,  as  far  as  it 
goes,  because  it  has  been  gained  by  his  own  powers. 
He  may,  indeed,  have  to  modify  his  first  notions,  to 
acknowledge  to  himself  that  his  observations  were  im- 
perfect, his  conclusions  hasty;  but  if  not  interfered  with 
by  unseasonable  meddling  from  without,  his  mind  will 
correct  its  own  abberrations,  and  be  much  the  stronger 
for  being  required  to  do  this  itself.  (You  will  remember 
Professor  Tyudall's  experience  in  teaching  geometry.) 

(8.)  That  by  teaching  himself  in  this  special  case,  he 
is  on  the  way  to  acquire  the  power  of  teaching  himself 
generally,  to  gain  the  habit  of  mental  self  direction,  of 
self  power,  the  very  end  and  consummation  of  the  edu- 
cator's art. 

In  order  to  illustrate  my  point  still  more  clearly,  by 
force  of  contrast,  I  will  give  a  sketch  of  another  mode 
of  teaching,  very  commonly  known  in  schools,  taking 
the  same  subject  for  the  lesson  as  before. 

The  teacher,  whose  operations  we  are  now  to  observe, 
has  a  notion — a  very  common  one — that  as  rules  and 
general  principles  are  compendious  expressions  repre- 
senting many  facts,  he  can  economize  time  and  labor 
by  commencing  with  them.  They  are  so  pregnant  and 
comprehensive,  he  thinks,  that  if  (your  2/  is  a  great 
peace-maker)  he  can  but  get  his  pupils  to  digest  them, 
they  will  have  gained  much  knowledge  in  a  short  time. 


BAD    TEACHING    ILLUSTRATED.  107 

This  remarkable  educational  fallacy  T  have  already 
referred  to.  Our  teacher,  however  (not  knowing  the 
science  of  education,  which  refutes  it),  assumes  its 
truth,  takes  up  a  book  (a  great  mistake  to  begin  with,  to 
teach  science  from  a  book  !),  and  in  order  to  be  quite  in 
form  (scientific  form  being  the  very  opposite  to  this), 
reads  out  from  it  a  definition  of  a  machine:  "A  machine 
is  an  artificial  work  which  serves  to  apply  or  regulate 
moving  power;"  or  another  to  the  same  effect:  "A  ma- 
chine is  an  instrument  formed  by  two  or  three  of  the 
mechanical  powers,  in  order  to  augment  or  regulate 
force  or  motion."  Now  the  men  who  wrote  these  defi- 
nitions were  scientific  men,  already  acquainted  with  the 
whole  subject,  and  they  summed  up  in  these  few  words 
the  net  result  of  their  observation  of  a  great  number  of 
machines,  so  as  logically  to  differentiate  a  machine  from 
everything  else.  Their  definitions  were  intended  for  the 
mature  minds  of  students  of  science,  and  were  therefore 
framed  in  a  scientific  manner.  This  logical  arrangement 
is,  however,  the  very  opposite  to  that  in  which  the  sci- 
ence was  historically  developed,  and  which  is  the  only 
one  possible  for  the  child  who  teaches  himself.  Our 
teacher,  uninformed  in  the  science  of  education  which 
disposes  of  this  and  so  many  other  questions  belonging 
to  the  art,  implicitly  follows  the  good  old  way,  and 
reads  out,  as  I  have  said,  the  definition  of  a  machine. 
The  pupils,  who  are  quite  disposed  to  learn  whatever 
really  interests  them,  listen  attentively,  but  not  knowing 
anything  about  "  moving  power  "  or  "  force  "  nor  what 
is  meant  by  augmenting  or  regulating  it,  nor  what 
"  mechanical  powers  "  are,  at  once  perceive  that  this  is 
a  matter  which  does  not  concern  them,  and  very  sensibly 


108  PRACTICE    OF     EDUCATION. 

turn  their  minds  in  another  direction.  The  vivid  curi- 
osity and  sympathy  manifested  in  the  other  instance  are 
wanting  here.  These  pupils  have  no  curiosity  about 
the  entirely  unknown,  and  no  sympathy  with  the  teach- 
er who  presents  them  with  the  entirely  unintelligible. 
The  teacher  perceives  this,  and  endeavors  to  "  clear  the 
ground,"  evidently  filled  with  stumbling-blocks  and 
brambles,  by  an  explanation: — "A  machine,"  he  says, 
(no  machine  being  in  sight)  "  is  an  artificial  work,  that 
is,  a  work  made  by  art."  (Boy,  really  anxious  to  learn 
something  if  he  can,  thinks,  "  What  is  art  ?  "  He  has 
heard,  perhaps,  of  the  art  of  painting,  but  what  has  a 
machine  to  do  with  painting?)  The  teacher  proceeds: 
"A  machine  you  see  [the  children  see  nothing]  is  an 
artificial  work  (that  is,  a  work  made  by  art),  which 
serves  to  apply,  augment  (that  is  add  to)  and  regulate 
(that  is,  direct)  moving  force  or  power;  you  know  what 
that  is  of  course — [The  teacher  instinctively  avoids  ex- 
plaining the  mechanical  force  of  a  mere  idea] — by  com- 
bining or  putting  together  two  or  more  of  the  mechani- 
cal powers — that  is,  levers,  pulleys,  etc. — I  need  not 
explain  these  common  words,  everybody  knows  what 
they  mean; — so  now  you  see  what  a  machine  is.  What 
is  a  machine?"  A.  B.  answers,  "A  machine  is  a  mov- 
ing power."  C.  D.,  "It  is  something  which  adds  force." 
"Adds  force  to  what?"  C.  D.  still,  "to  pulleys  and 
levers."  "How  stupid  you  all  are  !"  groans  out  the 
teacher,  "  there  is  no  teaching  you  anything  !  "  At  that 
moment,  E.  F.,  a  practical  boy,  gets  a  glimmering  of 
the  truth,  and  says,  "A  steam  engine  is  a  machine.'' 
This  is  an  effort  of  the  boy  to  dash  through  the  entan- 
glement of  the  words,  and  make  his  way  up  to  the  fact*. 


15AD    TEACHING    ILLUSTRATED.  109 

The  teaclier,  however,  at  once  throws  him  hack  again 
into  the  meshes,  by  saying,  "  Well  then,  apply  the  defi- 
nition." Boy  replies,  "  I  don't  understand  the  defini- 
tion." "  Not  understand  the  definition  !  Why,  I  have 
explained  every  word  of  it  ;  "  and  so  on.  He  reads  the 
definition  again,  questions  his  pupils  again  upon  it  with 
the  same  result.  He  perceives  that  he  has  failed  alto- 
gether in  his  object.  All  his  explanations,  which  have 
been  nothing  more  than  explanations  of  words,  not  of 
things,  (a  very  common  error  in  teaching)  have  failed  to 
"  clear  the  ground,"  which  remains  as  full  of  stumbling- 
blocks  and  brambles  as  ever.  A  bright  thought  strikes 
him.  He  introduces  a  picture  of  a  machine — say  of  the 
pile-driving  machine — (not  the  machine  itself),  and  a 
considerable  enlightenment  of  the  darkness  at  once 
takes  place.  There  is  now  something  visible,  if  not  tan- 
gible. Curiosity  and  sympathy  are  awakened,  and  some 
of  the  ends  of  teaching  are  secured,  and  more  would  be 
secured  but  that  the  teacher  still  confines  himself  to 
reading  from  his  book  a  description  of  the  machine, 
though  he  occasionally  interpolates  explanations  of  the 
technical  words  that  occur.  But  the  picture  is,  after 
all,  a  dead  thing;  all  its  parts  are  in  repose  or  equilib- 
rium; and  the  pupils,  after  giving  their  best  attention 
to  it,  see  in  it  scarcely  any  illustration  of  the  terms  of  the 
definition  through  which  they  have  labored  so  painfully. 
The  pictured  machine  represents  "  moving  power  "  by 
not  moving  at  all,  and  "  force  "  by  doing  nothing,  while 
it  leaves  the  "mechanical  powers"  an  entirely  unsolved 
mystery.  They  depart  from  the  lesson  with  a  number 
of  confused  notions  of  "  moving  power,"  "  augmenta- 
tion  of  force,"  "  mechanical   powers,"   "  pile-driving," 


110  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

"monkeys,"  and  "  clutches,"  while  the  mental  discipline 
they  have  acquii-ed  is  an  absolute  nullity.  Their  minds 
have  indeed  never  once  been  brought  into  direct  vital 
contact  with  the  matter  they  were  to  learn.  The  thing 
itself,  the  machine,  has  been  withheld  from  them;  noth- 
ing but  a  representation,  possibly  a  mis-representation, 
of  it,  has  been  seen,  at  a  distance,  in  a  state  of  dead 
repose.  Instead,  therefore,  of  observing  themselves  its 
action,  they  have  been  told  what  somebody  else  has  ob- 
served; instead  of  trying  experiments  upon  it  with  their 
own  hands,  they  have  been  treated  with  a  description  of 
somebody  else's  experiments;  instead  of  being  required 
to  form  a  judgment  of  their  own  on  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect,  as  seen  in  the  action  and  reaction  of  forces, 
they  have  been  made  acquainted  with  the  judgments  of 
others,  and  the  general  result  of  the  whole  lesson  prob- 
ably is,  that  while  they  have  been,  no  doubt,  deeply 
impressed  with  the  learning  and  science  of  their  teacher 
(and  especially  of  his  book),  they  have  left  the  class  still 
more  deeply  impressed  with  the  determination  that,  if 
this  is  science,  they  will  have  as  little  as  jjossible  to  do 
with  it.* 

Now  the  teacher,  in  this  case,  may  be  credited  with 
earnestness,  zeal,  industry,  knowledge  of  his  subject 
(though  he  had  better  have  thrown  away  his  book), 
with  all  the  knowledge  in  short  that  goes  to  the  making 
of  a  teacher,  except  (but  the  exception  is  rather  import- 
ant) a  knowledge  of  the  art  of  teaching. 

The3e  specimens  of  the  art  of  teaching  strikingly  illus- 

*  "  There  is  no  use,  educationally,  in  telling  you  simply  the  results  to 
which  I  have  come.  But  the  true  method  of  education  is  to  show  you  a 
road,  by  pursuing  which  you  cannot  help  arriving  at  these  results  for 
yourselves."—"  University  Extension,"  ubi  supra. 


SELF- ACTIVITY    TO    BK    STIMULATED.  Ill 

trate  the  principles  before  insisted  on.  It  has  been 
maintained  that  there  is  an  inherent  capacity  in  the 
child  who  has  taus^ht  himself  to  speak  and  walk,  to  teach 
himself  other  things,  provided  that  they  are  things  of 
the  same  kind  as  he  has  learnt  already.  Now  all  chil- 
dren, not  being  born  idiots,  are  capable  of  taking  part 
in  such  a  lesson  as  I  have  described — can  employ  their 
senses  upon  the  concrete  matter  of  the  machine,  observe 
its  phenomena,  make  experiments  themselves  with  it, 
and  gain  more  or  less  knowledge  by  this  active  employ- 
ment of  their  minds  upon  it.  And  the  same  would  be 
true  of  lessons  on  other  concrete  matter — on  flowers, 
stones,  animals,  etc.  In  fact,  these  children  have  been 
taught  all  their  lives  by  contact  with  concrete  matter  in 
some  shape  or  other,  and  the  teacher  who  understands 
his  science  will  see  that  there  is  no  other  possible  path 
to  the  abstract.  It  is  obvious,  then,  that  rudimentary 
lessons  on  the  properties  of  matter,  in  continuation  of 
those  already  received  from  natural  circumstances,  should 
constitute  the  eai'liest  instruction  of  a  child;  and  our 
typical  lesson  conclusively  shows  that  such  instruction  is 
attainable,  and  most  valuable,  not  only  for  its  own  sake, 
but  with  a  view  to  mental  development. 

It  is  also  shown  that  when  the  subject  of  instruction 
is  judiciously  chosen,  the  pupil  needs  no  verbal  explana- 
tions. The  lesson  in  question  is  a  specimen  of  teaching 
in  which,  in  accordance  with  the  theory  with  which  we 
set  out,  aU  the  work  on  which  the  mental  acquisition 
depends  is  absolutely  and  solely  done  by  the  pupil,  while  the 
teacher's  action  and  influence,  which  originate  and  maintain 
the  pupil's  work,  u  confined  to  guidance  and  superintendence. 

Many  arguments  might  be  adduced  to  show  that  the 


112  PRACTICE    OF    EDUCATION. 

principle,  that  the  main  business  of  the  teacher  is  to  get  the 
pupil  to  teach  himself,  lies  at  the  basis  of  the  entire  Art  of 
Instruction.  The  teacher  who,  by  whatever  means, 
secures  this  object,  is  an  efficient  artist;  he  who  fails  in 
this  point,  fails  altogether;  and  the  various  grades  of 
efficiency  are  defined  by  the  degree  of  approximation  to 
this  standard.* 

The  principle  itself  is  recognized  unconsciously  in  the 
practice  of  all  the  best  teachers.  Such  teachers,  while 
earnestly  intent  on  the  pi'ocess  by  which  their  pupils  are 
instructing  themselves,  generally  say  httle  during  the 
lesson,  and  that  little  is  usually  confined  to  direction. 
Arnold  scarcely  ever  gave  an  explanation;  and  if  he  did, 
it  was  given  as  a  sort  of  reward  for  some  special  effort  of 
his  pupils;  and  his  son,  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold,  tells  us  tliat 
such  is  the  practice  of  the  most  eminent  teachers  of 
Germany. 

If  further  authority  for  the  theoretical  argument  be 
needed,  it  may  be  found  in  the  words  of  Rousseau,  who, 
recommending  "  self-teaching  "  (his  own  word),  says, — 

♦"Alltheoest  cultivation  ofachild's  inind,"  says  Dr.  Temple,  '"is 
obtained  by  the  cliild's  own  exertions,  and  tiie  master's  success  may  be 
measured  by  tlie  degree  in  which  he  can  bring  his  scholars  to  make  such 
exertions  absolutely  without  aid." 

"Tliat  divine  and  beautiful  thing  called  teaching;  that  excellent 

power  whereby  we  are  enabled  to  help  i)eople  to  tiiink  for  tliemselves; 
encouraging  them  to  endeavors,  by  dexterously  guiding  those  endeavors 
to  success;  turning  them  from  their  error  just  when,  and  no  sooner  tlian 
their  error  has  thrown  a  himinousnesa  upon  that  which  caused  it;  care- 
fully leading  them  into  typical  difficulties,  of  which  the  very  patii  we  lead 
them  by  shall  itself  suggest  the  solution;  sometimes  gently  leading  them; 
sometimes  leaving  them  to  the  resource  of  their  own  unaided  endeavors, 
till,  little  by  little,  we  have  conducted  them  through  a  process  in  wiiich  it 
would  be  almost  impossible  for  them  to  tell  how  much  is  their  own  dis- 
covery, how  much  is  what  they  have  been  told."—"  University  Exten- 
nion,"  tibi  >mpra. 


ADVANTAGES    OF    SELF-ACTIVITY.  113 

"  Obliged  to  learn  by  himself,  the  pupil  makes  use  of  his 
own  reason,  and  not  that  of  others.  From  the  continual 
exercise  of  the  pujiil's  own  understanding  will  result  a 
vigor  of  mind,  like  that  which  we  give  the  body  by  Inbor 
and  fatigue.  Another  advantage  is,  that  we  advance 
only  in  proportion  to  our  strength.  The  mind,  like  the 
body,  carries  only  that  which  it  can  carry.  But  when 
the  understanding  appropriates  things  before  depositing 
them  in  the  memory,  whatever  it  afterwards  draws  from 
thence  is  properly  its  own."  Again:  "Another  advan- 
tage, also  resulting  from  this  method,  is,  that  we  do  not 
accustom  ourselves  to  a  servile  submission  to  the  author- 
ity of  others;  but,  by  exercising  our  reason,  grow  every 
day  more  ingenious  in  the  discovery  of  the  relations  of 
things,  in  connecting  our  ideas,  and  in  the  contrivance 
of  machines;  whereas,  by  adopting  those  which  are  put 
into  our  hands,  our  invention  grows  dull  and  indifferent, 
as  the  man  who  never  dresses  himself,  but  is  served  in 
everything  by  his  servants,  and  drawn  about  everywhere 
by  his  horses,  loses  by  degrees  the  activity  and  use  of 
his  limbs."  ("Essays  on  Educational  Reformers,"  p. 
135.) 


THE  PRICTICE  OF  EOnCATION -ANALYSIS. 


I.  Practice  of  Education  here  limited  to  InMruction .  .86 

II.  Learning  is  Self  Teacliing. 

1.  Two  parties  conjointly  engaged .87 

2 .  The  teacher  is  only  a  guide .  _ 88,  99 

III.  Nature' s  Art  of  Education 89 

1.  She  gives  no  explanations 90,  91 

2.  She  puts  facts  before  generalization ...89,92,104 

IV.  But  Nature  is  not  to  be  followed  implicitly. 

1.  Her  teaching  is  desultory 93 

2.  It  is  often  inaccurate. ..93 

3.  It  often  appears  overdone .93 

4.  It  does  not  aim  at  improvement 93 

5.  It  does  not  accustom  to  generalization .94 

6.  Its  discipline  is  relentless 94 

V.  An  Illustration  of  Good  Teacliing 95. 

1.  The  object  placed  before  the  class  ... 96,104 

2.  The  pupils  experiment  with  it 96,  100' 

{a)  Notions  of  a  force,  /i  machinery,  y  measure- 
ment, 5  momentum,  £  friction,  etc 97 

3.  Their  inventive  talent  is  awakened 98 

4.  The  machine  is  its  own  explanation 99 

5.  The  pupils  enjoy  learning 100 

G.  The  best  teacher  grows  most  useless 101 

7.  The  pupils  become  discoverers 101,  105 

(a)  The  faculty  of  invention  stimulated 102 

(6)    Prof.  Tyndall's  experience 103 

VI.  Deductions  from  this  Illustration,  of  Self- Teaching. 

1.  The  pupil  begins  with  facts 104 

2.  He  uses  both  analysis  and  synthesis. 105 

3.  He  enjoys  the  pleasure  of  discovery _  .105 

4.  He  is  started  in  self-teaching 105 

114 


AKALYSiS.  116 

5.  He  learns  to  generalize 106 

6.  His  lesson  becomes  a  clue  to  others... 106 

7.  His  knowledge  is  accurate  as  far  as  it  goes 106 

8.  He  gains  habits  of  mental  self-direction 106 

Vn.   An  Illustration  of  Bad  Teaching. 

1.  The  pupil  ])egins  with  a  generalization 107 

(a)  Fallacy  that  compact  statement  is  most  useful... 107 

(b)  Mistake  of  taking  science  from  a  boolc 107 

(c)  Misunderstanding  of  what  is  scientilic  form 107 

a  Logic  of  statement  vs.  logic  of  development 107 

(d)  Language  unintelligible  to  the  pupils 108 

(e)  No  curiosity,  no  sympathy 108 

(/)  The  explanation  of  words,  not  things 109 

3.  A  picture  introduced  instead  of  the  object 109 

(a)  After  all,  only  a  dead  thing 110 

(b)  Confused  notions,  and  no  mental  discipline 110 

(c)  Result,  distaste  for  science. 110 

Vni.   T/ie  Business  of  the  Teacher  to  get  the  Pupil  to  teach 

Himself. 

1.  The  child  has  inherent  capacity Ill 

{n)  Rudimentary  lessons  on  matter  appropriate .111 

(b)  He  needs  no  explanations .112 

2.  This  principle  is  recognized  by  the  best  teachers 113 

3.  Advantages  to  the  pupil 113 


EDUCATIOXAL   METHODS. 


There  is  a  just  distinction  between  a  iv[ethocl  and 
an  Art,  and  between  these  and  a  Science.  A  Method  is 
a  special  mode  of  administering  an  Art,  and  an  Art  is 
a  practical  display  of  Science.  In  education,  every 
teacher  must  have  some  mo<le  of  exhibiting  the  notions 
he  has  of  his  art,  and  this  mode  is  his  Method.  He  is 
practising  bis  Art  whenever  he  calls  forth  the  active 
powers  of  his  pupils,  let  the  subject  on  which  he  exer- 
cises them  be  what  it  may.  A  simple  machine,  a  flower, 
a  bit  of  chalk,  or  a  portion  of  language,  may  be  the  means 
for  displaying  his  art.  But  if  he  contents  himself  with 
leading  his  pispils  in  a  desultory  way,  from  one  point  of 
knowledge  to  another,  from  one  temporary  mental  excite- 
ment to  another,  he  risks  their  loss  both  of  instruction 
and  education — the  one  consisting  in  the  orderly  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge  ;  the  other  in  the  attainment,  through 
instruction,  of  good  mental  habits.  The  teacher,  then, 
must  define  his  object  by  a  special  mode  or  method  for 
securing  it.  This  method  will  be  the  exponent  of  his 
notions  of  the  Art  of  Education,  and  w'lil  be  good  or 
bad  just  as  these  notions  ai-e  sound  or  unsound  ;  and 
this,  again,  will  depend  on  bis  knowledge  of  the  Science 
of  Education — a  science,  as  was  before  shown,  ultimately 
based  on  that  of  Human  Nature. 

The  principki  being  once  admitted,  that  the  instruc- 
tion aimed  at  can  only  be  gained  by  the  thinking  of  the 
116 


THE    CENTRIPETAL    FORCE.  117 

pupil,  it  follows  that  the  direct  object  of  the  teacher  is 
to  get  the  learner  to  think.  The  mode  of  procedure 
which  secures  this  object  in  the  best  way  is  the  best 
method  of  teaching.  There  may,  therefore,  be  many  good 
methods  ol  teaching  ;  but  no  method  is  good  which  does 
not  recognize  and  appreciate  the  pupil's  natural  method 
of  learning.  This  principle,  I  repeat,  serves  as  the  test 
of  the  method  employed  by  the  teacher  ;  and  it  is  in 
this  sense  that  the  pupil's  subjective  process  of  learning 
suggests  the  objective  counterpart  method  of  teaching. 
If  the  teacher  succeeds  in  getting  his  pupils  to  do  ail 
tiie  thinking  by  which  the  instruction  is  gained,  the 
method  he  employs  must  be  a  good  one  ;  foi",  to  repeat 
Dr.  Temple's  words  already  quoted,  "the  master's  suc- 
cess may  be  measured  by  the  degree  in  which  he  can 
bring  his  pupils  to  make  such  exertions  [/.  e.,  the  exer- 
tions of  their  own  raindsj  absolutely  without  aid."  In 
the  system  of  agencies,  then,,  by  which  the  work  of  in- 
struction is  to  be  acconiplished,  the  principle,  that  the 
pupil's  own  mental  effort  alone  secures  the  intended  re- 
sult, is  the  centripetal  force  which  is  ever  tending  to 
harmonize  the  details  of  the  process.  Continually  act- 
ing in  opposition  to  this  are  the  centrifugal  forces — 
volatility,  indolence,  indifference,  etc.,  which  tend  to 
disturb  its  normal  operation.  The  teacher  who  com- 
mands both  these  forces,  directing  the  centripetal  and 
controlling  the  centrifugal,  is  a  master  of  educational 
method,  and  preserves  unity  of  action  amidst  the  endless 
diversities  of  his  practice. 

It  follows  from  the  foregoing  observations,  that  as  the 
characteristics  of  a  good  method  of  teaching  are  sug- 
gested and    dictated  by  the  characteristics  of  a  good 


118  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

method  ol  learnino-,  it  is  important  to  know  what  is  in- 
volved in  a  good  method  of  learning.  In  the  last  Lect- 
ure, 1  endeavored  to  show,  by  an  illustrative  lesson, 
what  the  pupil,  under  the  direction  of  the  teacher,  does 
when  engaged  in  teaching  himself  A  machine.  The  les- 
son was,  however,  presented  as  typical,  and  may  be  ap- 
plied, mutatis  mutandis,  to  other  subjects  of  instruction. 
It  showed  that  a  child  can  learn  the  elements  of  physi- 
cal science  by  the  exercise  of  his  own  mind,  "  absolutely 
without  the  aid  "  of  the  teacher,  except  that  aid  which 
consists  in  maintaining  the  mental  force  by  which  the 
pupil  acquires  his  knowledge.  The  teacher  throughout 
recognized  the  native  capacity  of  his  pupils  to  learn, 
and  his  method  consisted  in  stimulating  that  capacity  to 
do  its  proper  work.  He  gave  no  explanations,  because 
the  machine  being  its  own  interpreter,  none  were  needed. 
He  gave  no  definitions,  because  all  definitions,  given  in 
anticipation  of  the  facts  on  which  they  are  founded, 
would  have  been  unintelligible  ;  and  he  properly  con- 
sidered that  the  true  basis  of  all  science  is  a  knowledge 
of  facts.  He  recognized,  in  short,  throughout  the  en- 
tire lesson,  the  principle  which  I  have  so  often  insisted 
on,  that  his  pupils  were  teaching  themselves,  and  that 
he  was  the  director  of  the  process. 

In  order  to  show  what  the  method  of  the  pupil  was, 
is  is  necessary  briefly  to  recapitulate  the  main  points  of 
tlie  process.     We  notice,  then — 

1.  That  he  began  his  self-teaching  with  tangible  and 
concrete  matter,  on  which  he  could  exercise  his  natural 
senses. 

2.  That  he  employed  analysis  in  gaining  his  knowl- 
edge, and  synthesis  in  displaying  and  applying  it. 


ADVA>JTAGES    OF    SELF-ACTIVITY.  119 

3.  That  he  was  an  explorer,  experimenter,  nijd  invent- 
or on  his  own  account — a  true,  however  feeble,  disciple 
of  the  method  of  scientific  investiij;ation. 

4.  That  he  proceeded  in  proportion  to  his  strength, 
and  consequently  from  the  known  to  the  unknown. 

5.  That  the  ideas  that  he  gained,  being  derived  by 
himself  from  facts  present  to  his  senses,  were  clear  and 
accurate  as  far  as  they  went. 

6.  That  by  teaching  himself — relying  on  his  own 
powers — in  a  special  case,  he  Avas  acquiring  the  power 
of  teaching  himself  generally  ;  and  was  therefore  on 
the  way  to  gain  the  habit  of  independent  mental  self- 
direction — the  real  goal  of  all  the  teachei-'s  efforts. 

7.  That  he  dispensed  with  all  explanations  on  the 
part  of  the  teacher,  tliough  he  was  told  the  conven- 
tional and  technical  names  for  things  v/hich  he  already 
knew. 

These  are  not  all,  but  they  are  the  main  characteris- 
tics of  the  pupil's  method  of  learning  elementary  science, 
and  indeed  of  learning  everything — language,  geometry, 
arithmetic,  for  instance — which  admits  of  analysis  of 
decomposition  into  parts,  or  which  ultimately  rests  on 
concrete  matter.  In  learning  the  imitative  arts,  the 
process  will  be  somewhat  varied,  but  the  principles  re- 
main essentially  the  same;  for  it  is  the  same  human 
mind  engaged  in  teaching  itself  under  the  direction  of 
the  teacher. 

All  the  main  characteristics,  then,  of  a  good  method 
of  teaching  are  involved  in  those  of  the  pupil's  natural 
method  of  learning:  that  is  to  say,  the  teacher  must 
begin  his  instructions  in  science,  language,  etc.,  with 
concrete  matter — with  facts;  must  exercise  his  puj)il's 


120  EDUCATIONAL   METHODS. 

native  powers  of  observation,  judgment  and  reasoning; 
call  on  liiin  to  practise  analysis  and  synthesis;  make  him 
explore,  investigate,  and  discover  for  himself;  and  so  on. 

Now  it  is  obvious  that,  in  order  to  maintain  that  ac- 
tion and  induence  by  which  the  pu))ii's  method  is  to  end 
in  complete  and  acci;rate  knowledge,  the  teacher  must 
be  well  furnished  with  that  knowledge  of  mental  and 
moral  phenomena — of  human  nature,  in  short — which, 
as  1  showed  in  the  first  Lecture,  should  constitute  his 
own  equipment  as  an  educator.  He  must  know  what 
the  mind  does  while  thinking,  in  order  to  get  his  pupils 
to  think  correctly.  He  must  also  know  the  normal  ac- 
tion of  moral  forces  before  he  can  effectually  control 
the  moral  forces  of  his  pupils.  In  short,  he  must  know 
what  education  is,  and  what  it  can  be  expected  to  ac- 
complish, before  he  can  make  it  yield  its  best  results. 
Without  this  knowledge,  much  of  his  labor  maybe  mis- 
applied, and  even  if  not  altogether  wasted,  will  be  much 
less  productive  than  it  would  otherwise  have  been. 

In  order  to  show  that  these  notions  respecting  the 
characteristics  of  a  good  method  are  not  merely  theo- 
retical, I  will  now  quote  from  an  independent  source — 
Mr.  Marcel's  valuable  treatise  on  teaching* — what  he 
considers  to  be  the  main  features  of  such  a  method  gen- 
eral 1)'. 

First,  says  Mr.  Marcel,  "^  good  method  favors  self -teach- 
ing;'''' and  on  this  point  he  makes  the  following  apt  re- 
marks:— 

*  "Language  as  a  means  of  Mental  Culture  and  International  Com- 
munication; a  Manual  of  the  Teacher  and  the  Learner  of  Languages.'" 
By  C.  Marcel,  Knt.  Leg.  Hon;  French  Consul;  2  vols.  12ino;  Chapman  & 
Hall,  1853— a  work  of  conspicuous  excellence  on  the  whole  art  of  teach- 
ing, and  well  deserving  to  be  rei)rinted. 


OLAUDE    MAKCKL.  121 

"One  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  a  good  method 
consists  in  enabling  learners  to  dispense  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  toaclier  when  they  are  capable  of  self-govern- 
ment. It  should  be  so  contrived  as  to  excite  and  direct 
their  spontaneous  efforts,  and  lead  them  to  the  convic- 
tion that  they  have  the  power,  if  they  have  the  will,  to 
acquire  whatever  mnn  has  acquired.  The  prevailing 
notion  that  we  must  be  taught  everything  [that  is,  by 
"  the  most  stupid  and  most  didactic  method"]  is  a  great 
evil.  .  .  ,  The  best  informed  teachers  and  the  most 
elaborate  methods  of  instruction  can  impart  nothing  to 
the  passive  and  inert  mind.  If  even  a  learner  succeeded 
in  retaining  and  applying  the  facts  enumerated  to  him, 
the  mental  acquisition  would  then  be  vastly  inferior  to 
that  which  the  investigation  of  a  single  fact,  the  analy- 
sis of  a  single  combination  [e.  g.,  the  fact  of  the  pile- 
driving  machine,  the  combinations  it  afforded],  by  his 
unaided  reason,  would  achieve." 

2.  "^  c/ood  method  is  in  accordance  with  nature.'''' 

He  adds, — "  The  natural  process  by  which  the  vernac- 
ular idiom  is  acquired  demonstrates  what  can  be  done 
by  self-instruction,  and  presents  the  best  model  for  our 
imitation  in  devising  a  method  of  learning  languages." 
[This  is  only  another  way  of  stating  the  main  proposi- 
tion, that  the  method  of  teaching  is  suggested  by  the 
natural  method  of  learning]. 

3.  '■^A  good  method  comprises  Analysis  and  Synthesis. ^^ 
"Analysis,  the  method  of  Nature,  jiresents  a  whole, 

subdivides  it  into  its  parts,  and  from  particulars  infers  a 
general  truth.  By  analysis  we  discover  truths;  by  syn- 
thesis we  transmit  them  to  others.  .  .  .  Analysis,  con- 
sistently with  the  generation  of  ideas  and  the  process  of 


122  EDtrOATtOXAL    METHODS. 

nature,  makes  the  learner  pass  from  the  known  to  the 
unknown;  it  leads  him  by  inductive  reasoning  to  the 
object  of  study,  and  is  both  interesting  and  improving, 
as  it  keeps  the  mind  actively  engaged.  Synthesis  [Mr. 
Marcel  here  means  the  synthetic  process  of  the  teacher; 
there  is  a  little  confusion  in  his  statement],  on  the  con- 
trary, which  imposes  truths,  and  sets  out  with  abstrac- 
tions, presents  little  interest,  and  few  means  of  mental 
activity  in  the  first  stages  of  instruction.  ...  It  is, 
however,  necessary  for  completing  the  work  commenced 
by  analysis.  In  a  rational  m^^thod  we  should  follow  the 
natural  course  of  mental  investigation;  we  should  pro- 
ceed from  facts  to  principles,  and  then  from  principles 
down  to  consequences.  We  should  begin  with  analysis, 
and  conclude  with  synthesis.  ...  In  the  study  of  the 
arts,  decomposition  and  recomi)osition, classification  and 
generaliziition,  are  the  groundwork  of  creation  [i.  e.  of 
invention]." 

4.  "^  ffood  method  is  both  practical  and  comparative." 
Mr.  Marcel,  w^ho  has  in  view  especially  the  learning  of 
language,  means  that  there  should  be  both  practice 
founded  on  imitation,  and  coniparison,  conducted  by  the 
exorcise  of  the  reasoning  pow'ers.  ''The  former,"  he 
say's,  "exercises  the  powers  of  perce[>tion,  imitation,  and 
analogy;  the  latter  those  of  reflection,  conception,  com- 
parison and  reasoning,  the  first  leads  to  the  art,  the  sec- 
ond to  the  science,  of  language.  .  .  .  The  one  teaches 
how  to  use  a  language,  the  other  how  to  use  the  higher 
faculties  of  the  mind.  The  combination  of  both  w^ould 
constitute  the  most  efticient  system."  [It  is  needless  to 
say  that  our  model  lesson  on  teaching  elementary  science 
presented  both  these  chaiacteristicsj. 


CLAUDE    MARCEL.  123 

5.     '■^A  good  method  is  an  instrument  of  infeUecttial  culture.'''' 

This  is  little  more  than  u  repetition  of  tlie  previons 
statetnents.  However,  Mr.  Marcel,  in  insistino;  that  a 
good  method  should  cultivate  all  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties, further  remarks,  that  "  through  such  a  method  the 
reasoning  powers  will  be  unfolded  by  comparing,  gener- 
alizing, and  classifying  the  facts  of  language,  by  infer- 
ring and  applying  the  rules  of  grammar,  as  also  by  dis- 
criininaling  between  different  sentiments,  different 
styles,  different  writers  and  different  languages;  whilst 
the  active  co-operation  of  attention  and  memory  will  be 
involved  in  the  action  of  all  the  other  faculties." 

Such  are,  according  to  Mr.  Marcel,  who  only  repre- 
sents all  the  writers  of  any  authority  on  the  subject,  the 
main  criteria  of  a  good  method  of  teaching.  It  is  ob- 
vious that,  though  he  has  chiefly  in  view  the  teaching  of 
languages,  they  strikingly  coincide  with  the  deductions 
we  gathered  from  observing  the  pupil's  own  method  of 
learning  elementary  science.  The  conclusion,  then,  ap- 
pears inevitable,  that  the  characteristics  of  a  good 
method  must  be  the  same,  whatever  the  subject  of  in- 
struction, and  that  its  goodness  must  be  tested  by  its 
recoajnition  or  non-recocjnition  of  the  natural  laws  of 
the  process  by  which  the  human  mind  acquires  knowl- 
edge for  itself. 

Having  thus  indicated  the  main  criteria  of  a  good 
method  of  teaching,  I  shall  employ  the  remainder  of  our 
time  in  the  exposition  and  criticism  of  the  methods  of  a 
few  of  the  masters  of  the  art. 

I  begin  with  Roger  Ascham's  method  of  teaching  La- 
tin, a  method  characterized  by  Mr.  J.B.  Mayor,  (himself 
a  high  authority  on  education),  in  his  recently  published 


124  EDUCATIONAL   METHODS. 

valuable  editioi]  of  "The  Scboolmaster,"  as  " the  only 
sound  method  of  acquiring  a  dead  language." 

Ascham  gave  his  pupils  a  little  dose  of  grammar  to 
begin  with.  He  required  them  to  learn  by  heart  about 
a  page  of  matter  containing  a  synopsis  of  the  eight  parts 
of  speech,  and  the  tliree  concords.  This  was  the  gram- 
matical equipment  for  tlieir  work.  He  then  took  an 
easy  epistle  of  Cicero.  What  he  did  with  it  may  be  best 
learned  from  liis  own  words.  "  First,"  he  said,  "  let  the 
master  teach  the  childe,  cherefullie  and  ))lainlie,  the 
cause  and  matter  of  the  letter  [that  is,  what  it  is  about], 
then  let  him  construe  it  into  Englishe,  so  oft,  as  the 
childe  may  easilie  carie  awaie  the  understanding  of  it. 
Lastlie,  parse  it  over  perfitlie.  [The  teacher,  it  is  seen,- 
supplies  conventional  knowledge — the  English  words 
corresponding  to  the  Latin — which  the  child  could  not 
possibly  find  out  for  himself,  and  strictly  applies  the 
modicum  of  grammar  already  learned,]  This  done  thus, 
let  the  childe,  by  and  by,  both  construe  and  parse  it 
over  againe;  so  that  it  may  apjjeare,  that  the  childe 
douteth  in  nothing  that  his  master  taught  him  before. 
[This  is  the  reproductive  part  of  the  process,  involving  a 
partial,  mechanical,  synthesis].  After  this,  the  childe 
must  take  a  paper  booke,  and,  silting  in  some  place 
where  no  man  shall  prompte  him,  by  himself,  let  him 
translate  into  Englishe  his  former  lesson.  [This  is  a 
test  of  sound  acquisition,  and  involves  a  more  definite 
synthesis].  Then  showing  it  [his  translation]  to  his 
master,  let  the  master  take  from  his  Latin  booke,  and 
pausing  an  houre,  at.  the  least,  then  let  the  childe  trans- 
late his  owne  Englishe  into  Latin  againe,  in  an  other 
paper  booke.     [This  is  the  critical  test,  the  exact  repro- 


ROGER    ASOIIAM.  125 

ductioii  by  memory,  aided  by  judgment,  of  the  knowl- 
edge gained  by  obhervation  and  cojn])aiison].  When 
the  childe  bringetli  it  turned  into  Latin  [liis  re-transla- 
tion] the  master  must  compare  it  with  Tullies  booke 
[the  T>atin  text  of  the  epistU^],  and  lai'^them  both  togith- 
er;  and  where  the  childe  dotli  well,  either  in  chosing  or 
true  placing  of  Tullies  words,  let  the  master  praise  him 
and  saie,  Mere  ye  do  well.  For  I  assure  you  there  is  no 
such  whetstoiie  to  sharpen  a  good  witte  and  encoui-age 
a  will  to  learninge,  as  is  praise."  [This  last  {)art  of  the 
process  is  especially  valuable,  involving  the  correction 
of  faults  in  the  presence  of  the  model,  the  pupil  being 
really  taught,  not  by  the  arbitrary  dictum  of  the  master, 
but  by  the  superior  authority  of  the  master's  master,  the 
author  himself]. 

Tn  this  way,  supplj'ing  additional  grammatical  knowl- 
edge by  the  law  of  exigence,  just  when  it  is  needed,  the 
teacher  finds  in  the  text  thus  carefully  "lessoned," 
studied,  and  known  by  the  pupil,  "  the  grouno,"  _as 
Ascham  puts  it,  "  of  almost  all  the  rewles  that  are  so 
busilie  (anxiously)  taught  by  the  master,  and  so  hardlie 
learned  by  the  scholer,  -in  all  common  scholes;  which 
after  this  sort  the  master  shall  teach  without  all  error 
[because  founded  on  facts  present  to  view],  and  the 
scholer  shall  learne  withoute  great  paine;  the  master 
being  led  by  so  sui'e  a  guide,  and  the  scholer  being 
brought  into  so  plaine  and  easie  a  waie.  And,  there- 
fore," he  ])roceeds,  "  we  do  not  contemne  rewles,  but  we 
gladlie  teach  rewles;  and  teach  them  more  plainile,  sen- 
sibile,  and  orderlie  than  they  be  commonlie  taught  in 
common  scholes." 

We  see  in   Ascham's  method,  that  the  con(;rete  pre- 


126  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

ceded  the  abstract;  the  particulars,  the  generalization; 
the  examples  of  language,  the  grammatical  rules.  He 
was  thus  carrying  out  the  spirit  of  Dean  Colet  and  Car- 
dinal Wolsey,  who  had  insisted,  to  nse  the  words  of  the 
former,  that  if  a  man  desires  "  to  attain  to  understand 
Latin  books,  and  to  speak  and  to  write  clean  Latin,  let 
him  above  all  busily  (carefully)  learn  and  read  good 
Latin  authors  of  chosen  poets  and  orators,  and  note 
wisely  how  they  wrote  and  spake,  and  study  always  to 
follow  them,  desiring  none  other  rules  but  their  exam- 
ples." After  much  more  to  the  same  effect,  he  ends  his 
instructions  to  the  masters  of  St.  Paul's  School,  by  urg- 
ing that  "  busy  (careful)  imitation  with  tongue  and  pen 
more  availeth  shortly  to  get  the  true  eloquent  speech, 
than  all  the  traditions,  rules,  and  precepts  of  masters." 
Cardinal  Wolsey  uses  nearly  the  same  words  in  his  direc- 
tions to  the  masters  of  Ipswich  School. 

Into  the  further  details  of  Ascham's  method,  so 
quaintly  described  in  the  "  Seholemaster,"  I  cannot 
entei',  except  to  say  that  after  a  long  training  in  double- 
translations,  with  the  constant  application  of  grammar 
rules  as  they  are  wanted  ("  the  grammar  booke  being 
ever  in  the  scholer's  hand,  and  also  used  by  him,  as  a 
dictionarie,  for  everie  present  use,")  the  master  trans- 
lates himself  easy  portions  of  Cicero  into  English,  and 
then  requires  the  pupil,  who  has  not  seen  the  original,  to  turn 
them  into  Latin.  The  pupil's  work  is  then  to  be  care- 
fully compared  with,  and  corrected  by,  the  original, 
"  for  of  good  heedtaking  springeth  chiefly  knowledge." 
This  exercise  prepares  the  scholar  for  independent  com- 
position in  Latin. 

There   is    one    feature    especially  in  this   method,  as 


ROGER    ASCHAM.  12*7 

described  by  Ascliam,  worthy  of  careful  notice,  and  that 
is  the  close  study  of  a  small  portion  of  literary  matter,  ending 
in  a  complete  mastery  of  it.  Tlie  various  exercises  of  the 
mlithod  requii'e  the  pupil,  as  Aschain  siiows,  to  s;o  over 
this  portion  at  least  a  dozen  times;  and  he  adds  signifi- 
cantly, "always  with  pleasure;  for  pleasure  allureth 
love,  love  hath  lust  to  labor,  labor  always  attaineth  his 
purpose."  By  continually  coming-  into  direct  contact 
with  the  phraseology  of  the  text,  the  pupil  masters  the 
form;  and  through  the  form  penetrates  into  the  spirit  of 
the  author;  or,  as  Ascliam  phrases  it,  "  by  marking 
dailie  and  following  diligentlie  the  footsteps  of  the  best 
authors,  the  pupil  understands  their  invention  of  argu- 
ments, their  arrangement  of  topics,  and  hereby,"  he 
adds,  "your  scholar  shall  be  brought  not  only  to  like 
[similar]  eloquence,  but  also  to  all  true  understanding 
and  rightful  judgment  for  speaking  and  writing."  It 
appears,  then,  that  Ascham's  pupil  proceeds  firmly  on  a 
broad  basis  of  facts,  which  he  has  made  his  own  by  men- 
tal conquest,  and  that  this  has  been  possible  because  the 
field  of  conquest  has  been  intentionally  limited.  It  is 
obvious  that  no  method  of  teaching  which  consists  in 
bringing  a  bit  of  this  thing  (or  author),  a  bit  of  that 
thing  (or  author),  transiently  before  the  pupil's  mind, 
creating  ideas,  like  dissolving  views,  each  of  which  in  its 
turn  displaces  its  predecessor,  which  makes  acquisitions 
only  to  abandon  them  before  they  are  "incorporated 
with  the  organic  life  of  the  mind,"  can  possibly  be  a 
good  method.  Hence  the  very  general  result  of  our 
systems  of  education,  so  called,  is  a  farrago  of  facts  par- 
tially hatched  into  principles,  mingled  in  unseemly  jum- 
ble with  rules  half  understood,  exceptions  claiming  equal 


128  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

rank  with  tlie  rules,  definitions  dislocated  from  the  ob- 
jects they  define,  and  tecliniealities  which  clog  lather 
than  facilitate,  as  they  should  do,  the  operations  ot  ^.ie 
mind. 

It  would  be  easy  to  show  that  tlie  valuable  ends  of 
instruction  and  education  can  only  be  gained  by  doing  a 
little  well;  tliat  the  ambition  to  grasp  many  things  igno- 
bly ends  in  the  loss  of  the  large  majority  of  them  [qui 
trop  emhrasse  mal  etreint) ;  that  apprehension  is  not  com- 
prehension, and  generally,  that  to  the  characteristics  of 
a  good  method  of  teaching  we  must  add  this,  tbat  it 
aims  at  securing  mulium,  but  not  multa.  If  the  object  of 
education  is  training  to  faculty,  to  mental  self-direction, 
his  principle  must  be  constantly  insisted  on.  I  see, 
however,  with  the  deepest  regret,  that  our  educational 
amateurs — men  of  the  best  intentions,  but  of  no  pi'ac- 
tical  experience — are  continually  violating  it  in  their 
persistent  attempts  to  extend  the  curriculum  of  element- 
ary instruction.  A  little  bit  of  this  knowledge,  a  little 
bit  of  that — some  information  on  this  point,  and  some 
on  that — is  so  "  useful."  They  forget  that  the  most 
useful  thing  of  all  is  the  formation  of  good  mental 
habits,  and  that  these  can  only  be  formed  by  concentrat- 
ing the  mind  on  a  few  subjects,  and  making  them  the 
basis  of  training.  When  this  supremely  useful  object 
has  been  gained,  the  curriculum  may  be  extended  ad 
libitum;  but  not  till  then.  What  is  really  wanted  in 
primary,  and  indeed  all  classes  of  schools,  is  not  so 
much  more  subjects  to  teach,  but  the  power  of  teaching 
the  ordinary  subjects  well.  Ascham's  method,  then, 
with  some  slight  modifications,  presents  all  the  charac- 
teristic features  of  a  good  method  of  teaching,  and  is. 


BATICH,    STURM,    COMKNIUS.  129 

I  need  not  point  out,  identical  in  principle  with  that 
already  illustrated.  It  is  natural,  simple,  effective,  al- 
though so  widely  different,  in  most  of  its  features,  from 
the  traditional  methods  of  our  grammar  schools;  which 
are,  indeed,  in  most  respects,  suited  to  the  mental  con- 
dition  of  the  ambitious,  active-minded,  inventive  few, 
but  not  at  all  to  the  ordinary  mental  condition  of  the 
many.  We  too  often  forget  that  the  raison  d'etre  of  the 
schoolmaster  is  the  instruction,  not  of  the  minority  who 
will  and  can  teach  themselves,  but  of  the  majority  who 
can  but  will  not.  Our  teaching  force  should  regulate 
the  movements  rather  of  the  ordinary  planets  than  of 
the  comets  of  the  system. 

In  the  seventeenth  century,  a  number  of  thoughtful 
men — Germans — unsatisfied  with  the  methods  of  educa- 
tion then  in  vogue,  began  almost  simultaneously  to 
investigate  the  princi])les  of  education;  and,  as  the 
result,  arrived  virtually  at  the  conclusion  on  which  1 
have  so  often  insisted,  that  the  teacher's  function  is 
really  defined  by  that  of  the  pupil,  and  that  it  is  by 
understanding  what  he  is,  and  what  he  does,  that  we 
learn  how  to  treat  hirn  wisely  and  effectively.  The 
eminent  names  of  Ratich^  Sturm,  and  especially  Come- 
nius,  are  connected  with  this  movement.  I  can  do  no 
more  than  refer  those  who  are  interested  in  the  details 
to  Von  Raumer's  valuable  "  Gesci)ichte  der  Piidagogik," 
or  to  Mr.  Quick's  exposition  of  them  in  the  "  Essays  on 
Educational  Reformers."  The  results  may  be  stated  in 
Mr.  Quick's  words: 

"  1.  They  (the  reformers  in  question)  proceed  from 
the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  giving  some  knowledge  of 
the    thino-    itself    before    the    rules   which    refer   to   it. 


130  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

2.  Tliey  employ  the  student  in  analyzing  matter  put 
before  him,  rather  than  in  working  synthetically  accord- 
ing to  precept.  3.  They  require  the  student  to  teach 
himf^elf,  under  the  superintend e7hce  of  the  master,  rather  than  be 
taught  by  the  master,  and  receive  anything  on  the 
master's  authority.  4.  They  rely  on  the  interest  ex- 
cited in  the  pupil  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge;  and 
renounce  coercion.  5.  Only  that  which  is  understood 
may  be  committed  to  memory." 

The  methods,  then,  of  these  reformers  present  the 
same  characteristics  which  we  have  deductively  gained 
by  other  means. 

In  a  lecture  on  Methods,  it  is  impossible  to  omit  the 
names  of  Locke  and  Rousseau.  As,  hoM'ever,  it  is  easy 
to  read  through  the  short  and  very  interesting  "Treatise 
of  Education"  and  the  capital  digest  of  the  "Emile" 
in  Mr.  Quick's  book,  I  may  pass  them  over. 

We  come  liext  to  Festalozzi — a  name  of  world-wide 
renown,  of  still  increasing  influence.  He  differed  essen- 
tially from  Comenius,  whom  he  practically  succeeded  in 
the  history  of  education,  in  being  a  comparatively  un- 
educated man.  When  once  reproached  by  his  enemies 
(of  whom,  from  various  causes,  he  had  many)  with  being 
unable  to  read,  write,  and  cipher  respectably,  he  frankly 
acknowledged  that  the  charge  was  true.  On  another 
occasion  he  confessed  to  an  "  unrivalled  incapacity  to 
govern  " — a  confession  which  discovered  a  most  accur- 
ate self-knowledge  on  his  part;  and  generally,  his  whole 
educational  life  bore  witness  to  the  deficiency  of  his 
mental  equipment  and  training.  He  often  bitterly  de- 
plored, when  he  could  not  remedy,  this  ignorance  and 
incapacity.     His  mind,  however,  was  remarkably  active 


PESTALOZZl.  131 

and  enterprising,  and  his  moral  power  truly  immense. 
A  thousand  criticisms  on  his  want  of  knowledge,  of 
judgment,  of  the  power  of  government,  of  even  common 
sense  (as  men  usually  estimate  that  quality),  fall  power- 
less as  attacks  on  a  man  whose  unfailing  hope,  love,  and 
patience  not  only  formed  his  inward  support  under  trials 
and  disappointments,  but  combined  with  that  intense  ne- 
cessity of  action,  which  was  the  essence  of  his  nature, 
in  stamping  his  moral  influence  on  all  around  him.  Vir- 
tue, witl>»him,  was  not  a  mere  word;  it  was  an  energetic, 
ever-acting  force.*  To  instruct  and  humanize  the  poor 
wretched  children  who  were  generally  his  pupils, — to 
relieve  their  physical  wants  and  sufferings, — to  sympa- 
thize with  them  under  their  diflficulties, — was  to  him  not 
only  a  duty  but  a  delight.  To  accomplish  these  objects, 
he  woi'ked  like  a  horse  (only  harder),  fagging  and  slav- 
ing sometimes  from  three  in  the  morning  till  eleven  at 
night,  dressed  himself  like  a  mechanic,  almost  starved 
himself,  became,  as  he  tells  us,  "  the  children's  teacher, 
trainer,  paymaster,  man-servant,  and  almost  house- 
maid;" and  all  this  to  gain  the  means  for  instructing, 
boarding,  sometimes  even  clothing,  children  who  not 
unfrequently  rewarded  his  labors  with  ingratitude  and 
scorn.  Pestalozzi  was  indeed  the  Howard  of  school- 
masters. 

It  was  his  unbounded  philanthropy  that  first  led  him 
to  become  a  schoolmaster. — his  intense   love  and  pity 

*  Like  most  enthusiasts,  however,  he  exercised  it  very  irregularly.  On 
one  occasion,  we  are  told,  when  reduced  to  the  utmost  extremity  for  want 
of  money,  he  l)orrowed  400  francs  from  a  friend.  Going  home,  he  met  a 
peasant  wringing  his  hands  in  despair  for  the  loss  of  his  cow.  Without 
a  moment's  hesitation,  Pestalozzi  put  the  jjurse  with  all  its  contents  into 
the  man's  hands  and  ran  off,  as  quick  as  he  could,  to  escape  his  thanks. 


132  EnUCATIONAL    METHODS 

that  supplied  both  motive  and  means.  He  saw  around 
liim  children  perishino-,  as  he  conceived,  for  lack  of 
knowledge;  and  though  possessed  of  little  himself, 
though  mentally  untrained,  though  ignorant  of  the  ex- 
perience of  other  teachers,  he  resolved,  witli  such  appli- 
ances as  he  had,  to  commence  the  M'ork,  The  one  rul- 
ing thought  in  his  mind  was,  "  Here  are  poor  ignorant 
children.  Frommy  heart  T  pity  them.  I  feel  that  lean 
do  them  some  good.     Let  me  try." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  tliat  his  trials  often  proved 
"trials"  indeed,  and  ended  in  utter  disa]i])()intment:  for 
although  his  educational  instincts  furnished  him  with 
excellent  r\otionsand  theories  about  teaching,  the  actual 
results  were  often  unsatisfactory.  In  this  intense  eager- 
ness to  press  forward,  he  never  stopped  to  examine  re- 
sults, nor  to  co-ordinate  means  with  ends.  Provided 
that  he  could  excite,  as  he  generally  did,  a  vivid  interest 
in  the  actual  lesson,  he  was  contented  with  that  excite- 
ment as  the  end  of  his  teaching.  Thus,  while  he,  to 
some  extent,  developed  the  mental  powers,  he  did  not 
even  conceive  of  the  higher  eiul  of  training  them  to  in- 
dependent action. 

In  order  tosliow  what  Pestalozzi's  method  of  teaching 
really  was^  I  shall  quote  some  ])assages  from  an  inter- 
esting narrative  written  by  Ramsauer,  who  was  first  a 
pui)il  and  ihen  a  teacher  in  one  of  Pestalozzi's  schools.* 

Refeiring  to  his  experience  as  a  pupil,  lie  says,  "  I  got 
about  as  much  regular  schooling  as  the  other  scholars — 
namely,  none  at  all;  but  his  (Pestalozzi's)  sacred  zeal, 

*  Those  quotations  are  taken  from  a  translation  by  Mr.  Tilleard  of  Von 
Ilaumer' s  account  of  Pestalozzi's  Life  and  System,  given  in  the  "  (ie- 
scliiclite  der  riidagogik," 


PESTALOZZI.  133 

l)is  devoted  love,  which  caused  him  to  be  entirely  un- 
mindful of  himself,  his  serious  and  depressed  state  of 
mind,  which  struck  even  the  chiklren,  made  the  deepest 
impression  on  me,  and  knit  my  childlike  and  grateful 
heart  to  his  forever." 

Pestalozzi  had  a  notion  "that  all  the  instruction  of 
the  school  should  start  from  form,  number,  and  lan- 
guage; so  ihat  the  entire  curriculum  consisted  of  drawing, 
ciphering,  and  exercises  in  language."  "We  neither 
read  nor  wrote,"  says  Ramsauer,  "  nor  were  we  required 
to  commit  to  memory,  anything  secular  or  sacred." 
"  For  the  drawing,  we  had  neither  copies  to  draw  from 
nor  directions  what  to  draw,  but  only  crayons  and 
boards;  and  we  were  told  to  draw  'what  we  liked.'  .  . 
But  we  did  not  know  what  to  draw,  and  so  it  happened 
that  some  drew  men  and  women,  some  houses,  etc.  .  . 
Pestalozzi  never  looked  to  see  what  we  had  drawn,  or 
rather  scribbled;  but  the  clothes  of  all  the  scholars,  es- 
pecially the  sleeves  and  elbows,  gave  unmistakable  evi- 
dence that  they  had  been  making  due  use  of  their  cray- 
ons." [This  is  a  remarkable  specimen  of  children  being 
left  to  teach  themselves,  without  the  careful  superintendence 
of  the  teacher,  and  certainly  does  not  recommend  the 
practice]. 

"For  the  ciphering,"  Ramsauer  says,  "  we  had  be- 
tween every  two  scholars  a  small  table  pasted  on  mill- 
board, on  which,  in  quadrangular  fields,  were  marked 
dots  which  we  had  to  count,  to  add  together,  to  subtract, 
to  multiply  and  divide,  by  one  another."  [Here  there 
is  obviously  some  siiperintendence;  the  character  of  it, 
however,  is  seen  in  what  follows].  ''  But  as  Pestalozzi 
only  allowed  the  scholars  to  go  over  and  repeat  the  ex- 


134  EDUCATIOXAL    METHODS. 

ercises  in  their  turns,  and  never  questioned  them  nor  set 
them  tasks,  these  exercises,  which  were  otherwise  very- 
good,  remained  without  any  great  utility.  He  had  not 
sufficient  patience  to  allow  things  to  be  gone  over  again, 
or  to  put  questions;  and  in  his  enormous  zeal  for  the  in- 
struction of  the  whole  school,  he  seemed  not  to  concern 
himself  in  the  slightest  degree  for  the  individual 
scholar."  [These  are  Ramsauer's  words,  and  they  give 
a  curious  idea  of  a  superintendence  which  involved 
neither  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  machine,  nor  a 
true  conception  of  the  end  towards  which  it  was  work- 
ing, nor  any  notion  of  the  corrections  necessary  to  con- 
trol its  abberrations  and  apply  its  action  to  special  cases. 
Yet,  as  making  concrete  matter  the  basis  of  the  abstrac- 
tions of  number,  it  was  good;  and  good,  too,  in  employ- 
ing the  pupil's  own  observation,  and  his  analytical  and 
synthetical  faculties.  Hence  we  find  that  Pestalozzi  was 
more  successful  in  teaching  arithmetic  than  anything 
else]. 

Ramsauer  pi-oceeds, — "The  best  things  we  had  with 
him  were  the  exercises  on  language,  at  least  those  which 
he  gave  us  on  the  paper-hangings  of  the  school-room, 
and  which  were  real  exercises  on  observation."  "  These 
hangings,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  were  very  old  and  a  good 
deal  torn;  and  before  these  we  had  frequently  to  stand 
for  two  or  three  hours  together;  and  say  what  we  ob- 
served in  respect  to  the  form,  num'oer,  position,  and 
color  of  the  figures  painted  on  them,  and  the  holes  torn 
in  them,  and  to  express  what  we  observed  in  sentences 
gradually  increasing  in  length.  On  such  occasions  he 
would  say,  '  Boys,  what  do  you  see  ?'  (He  never  named 
the  gii'ls).     Ans. — A  hole  in  the  wainscot  (^meaning  the 


PESTALOZZI.  135 

hangings).  P. — Very  good.  Now  repeat  after  me  :  I 
see  a  liole  in  the  wainscot.  I  see  a  long  hole  in  the 
wainscot,  Througli  the  hole  I  see  the  wall.  Throngh 
the  long  narrow  hole  I  see  the  wall.  P. — Repeat  after 
me:  I  see  figures  on  the  jiaper-hangings.  1  see  black 
figures  on  the  paper-hangings.  1  see  round  black  figures 
on  the  paper-hangings,  I  see  a  square  yellow  figure  on 
the  paper  hangings.  Beside  the  square  yellow  figure  I 
see  black  round  figures,  etc. 

"  Of  less  utility  were  those  exercises  in  language 
which  he  took  from  natural  history,  and  in  which  we  bad 
to  repeat  after  him,  and  at  the  same  time  to  draw,  as  I 
have  already  mentioned.  He  would  sa}': — Amphibious 
animals—crawling  amphibious  animals,  creeping  amphib- 
ious animals.  Monkeys — long-tailed  monkeys,  short- 
tailed  monkeys, — and  so  on." 

Kamsauer  adds, — "  We  did  not  understand  a  word  of 
this;  tor  not  a  word  was  explained;  and  it  was  all  spoken 
in  such  a  sing-song  tone,  and  so  rapidly  and  indistinctly, 
that  it  would  have  been  a  wonder  if  any  one  had  under- 
stood anything  of  it,  and  had  learned  anything  from  it. 
Besides,  Pestalozzi  cried  out  so  dreadfully  loud  and  so 
continuously  that  he  could  not  hear  us  repeat  after  him, 
the  less  so  as  he  never  waited  for  us  when  he  had  read 
out  a  sentence,  but  went  on  without  intermission,  and 
read  off  a  whole  page  at  once.  Our  repf  tition  consisted 
for  the  most  part  in  saying  the  last  word  or  syllable  of 
each  phrase;  thus,  'JMonkeys — monkeys,'  or  'Keys — 
keys.'  There  was  never  any  questioning  or  recapitu- 
lation." 

This  long,  but  interesting  account,  from  the  pen  of  an 
attached  pupil,  fairly  represents  (as  we  learn  from  Von 


136  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

Raumer  liimself,  who  spent  nearly  nine  months  in  the 
school)  Pestak^zzi's  actual  teachint^,  though  not  the  ideal 
which,  in  describing  results  to  strangers,  he  often,  in  his 
enthusiasm,  substituted  for  it. 

In  criticizing  it,  we  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that 
Pestalozzi's  method  excites  mental  action  to  some  ex- 
tent, but  secures  the  ends  neither  of  instruction  nor 
education.  It  scarcely  at  all  recognizes  the  self-teaching 
of  the  child,  but  rather  supersedes  it  by  the  mechanical 
repetition  of  the  master's  words.  The  observation  of 
the  child,  called  for  a  moment  to  the  properties  of  ob- 
jects, is  immediately  checked  by  the  resolution,  on  the 
part  of  the  teacher,  of  the  lesson  on  things  into  a  lesson 
on  words.  The  naming  of  qualities,  not  ascertained  by 
investigation,  but  pointed  out  by  the  tencher,  constitutes 
what  Pestalozzi  looked  on  in  theory  as  a  training  of  the 
powers  of  ohservation.  Von  Raumer,  Professors  Maiden 
and  Mosely,  and  Herbert  Spencer,  all  agree  in  their  es- 
timate both  of  the  value  of  Pestalozzi's  theory  respect- 
ing object  teaching,  and  the  comparative  worthlessness 
of  his  pi'actice.  In  fact,  to  hold  up  a  piece  of  chalk  be- 
fore a  class  (keejiing  ii  in  your  own  hands  all  the  while,) 
to  call  out  "  That  is  chalk!  that  is  chalk!  that  is  chalk!" 
or  "  Chalk  is  white,"  "  Chalk  is  hard,"  etc  ,  is  in  no  i)rop- 
er  sense  teaching  the  properties  oF  chalk,  but  only  the 
names  of  its  properties.  Pestalozzi,  however,  never 
saw  this,  nor  that  his  method  genei-ally  had  no  tendency 
to  train  the  mind.  An  additional  proof  of  his  blind- 
ness in  this  respect  was  that  he  drew  up  manuals  of 
instruction  for  his  teachers  which  involved  in  their  use 
a  perfectly  slavish  routine.  Thus  we  learn  from  his 
"  Book  for  Mothers,"  that  the  teacher,  in  teaching  a 


PESTALOZZl.  137 

cliild  the  parts  of  liis  own  body  (which  he  fancied  was 
tlio  subject  to  be  first  taught),  is  to  go,  word  for  word, 
tlirougli  a  quantity  of  such  matter  as  this: — "  The  mid- 
dle bones  of  the  index  finger  are  phiced  outside,  on  the 
middle  joints  of  tlie  index  finger,  betwcM^n  the  back  and 
middle  members  of  the  index  finger,"  etc.  Then  he 
compiled  a  S])elling-book  containing  long  lists  of  words, 
which  were  to  be  repeated  to  the  infant  in  its  cradle,  be- 
fore it  was  aible  to  pronounce  even  one  of  them,  that 
they  might  be  deeply  impressed  on  its  memory  by  fre- 
quent repetition. 

On  the  whole,  then,  from  Pestalozzi's  method  pur  et 
simple,  there  is  little  to  be  gained.  It  was  much  im- 
proved subsequently  by  some  of  his  teachers,  Schmid, 
Niederer,  etc.,  who  saw  in  his  theories  applications 
which  he  failed  to  see  himself.  Had  he  been  educated 
in  education, — had  he,  moreover,  profited  by  the  experi- 
ence of  others, — had  he  brought  his  practice  into  con- 
formity with  his  principles  (crude  enough  though  some 
of  these  were) — his  career,  instead  of  being  a  series  of 
failures  and  disappointments,  many  of  them  due,  how- 
ever, to  his  unrivalled  "  incapacity  to  govern,"  would 
have  been  one  of  triumphant  success. 

As  it  is,  we  owe  him  much.  His  principles,  and  much 
of  his  practice,  are  an  inheritance  that  the  world  will 
not  willingly  let  die.  Let  us,  however,  leave  the  noble- 
minded,  self-sacrificing  Pestalozzi,  with  all  his  virtues 
and  all  his  faults,  and  pass  on  to  Jacotot. 

It  should  be  stated  in  the  outset,  that  Jacotot  was 
rather  an  educator  of  the  mind  than  of  all  the  human 
forces.  He  does  not  appear  to  have  been  placed  in  cir- 
cumstances which  required  him  to  develop  and  train,  by 


138  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

special  treatment,  the  physical  and  moral  powers;  al- 
though the  moral  force  of  his  own  energetic  character, 
as  well  as  that  of  his  system,  could  not  but  be,  and  was, 
vitally  influential  on  the  whole  being  of  his  j^upils.  It 
is,  however,  mainly  as  a  teacher  that  I  propose  to  con- 
sider him. 

But  some  here  will  enquire  who  was  Jacotot ; — a 
question  I  have  no  time  to  answer  in  detail.  I  can 
merely  say  that  he  was  born  at  Dijon  in  1770;  was  edu- 
cated at  the  college  of  that  town;  at  nineteen  years  of 
age  took  the  degree  of  Docteur-dos-Lettres,  and  was 
appointed  Professor  of  Humanities  (?'.  e.,  grammar,  rhet- 
oric, and  composition)  in  tlie  same  college;  when  the 
troubles  of  his  country  arose,  became,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-two,  a  captain  of  artillery,  and  fought  bravely 
at  the  sieges  of  Maestricht  and  Valenciennes;  was  after- 
wards made  sub-director  uf  the  Polytechnic  School  at 
Paris;  then  Professor  of  the  Method  of  Sciences  at 
Dijon;  and  later  Professor  of  Pure  and  Transcendental 
Mathematics,  Roman  Law,  Ancient  and  Oriental  Lan- 
guages in  different  colleges  and  universities.  Oblis:ed, 
as  a  marked  opponent  of  the  Bourbons,  to  leave  Fi'ance 
on  their  restoration,  he  took  refuge  in  Brussels,  and  was 
in  1818  appointed  by  the  Belgian  government  Professor 
of  the  French  Language  and  Literature  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Louvain;  there  discovered  the  method  of  teach- 
ing which  goes  by  his  name;  devoted  the  remainder  of 
his  life  to  propagating  it;  and  died  at  Paris  in  1840, 
being  then  seventy  years  of  age. 

We  are  told  that,  as  a  schoolboy,  he  displayed  some 
remarkable  characteristics.  He  was  what  teachers,  and 
especially  dull  ones,  consider  a  particularly  "  objectiona- 


JACOTOT.  139 

ble  "  cliild.  He  was  one  of  those  children  who  "wanted 
to  know,  you  know,"  wliy  tliis  thing  was  so;  why  that 
other  thing  was  not.  He  showed  little  deference,  I  am 
afraid,  to  the  formal  didactic  prelections  of  his  teachers. 
Not  that  he  was  idle;  far  from  that.  We  are  told  that 
he  delighted  in  the  acquisition  of  all  kinds  of  knowledge 
that  could  be  gained  by  liisown  efforts,  while  he  steadily 
resisted  what  was  imposed  on  him  by  authority;  admit- 
ting nothing  which  was  prima  facie  conteaUMe;  rejecting 
whatever  he  could  not  see  clearly;  refusing  to  learn  by 
heart  grammars,  or,  indeed,  any  mere  digests  of  conclu- 
sions made  by  others.  At  the  same  time  he  eagerly 
committed  to  memory  passages  of  authors  which  pleased 
him,  thus  spontaneously  preferring  the  society  of  the 
"masters  of  the  grammarians"  to  that  of  the  grammari- 
ans themselves.  Even  as  a  child,  nearly  everything  he 
knew  he  had  taught  himself.  He  was,  in  short,  ill 
adapted  to  be  a  pupil  of  any  of  those  methods  which,  in 
Mrs.  Pipchin's  fashion,  are  intended  to  open  the  mind  of 
a  child  like  an  oyster,  instead  of  encouraging  it  to  de- 
velop like  a  flower.  As  a  Professor,  his  rooms  were 
always  crowded  with  eager  pupils;  and  his  inaugural 
address,  at  Louvain,  was  received,  we  are  told  by  one 
who  was  present,  with  an  enthusiasm  like  that  which 
usually  greeted  Talma  on  the  stage. 

His  style  of  teaching,  as  a  Professor,  before  the 
invention  of  his  method,  was  striking  and  original. 
Instead  of  pouring  forth  a  flood  of  information  on  the 
subject  under  attention  from  his  own  ample  stores,  ex- 
plaining everything,  and  thus  too  frequently  superseding, 
in  a  great  degree,  the  pupil's  own  investigation  of  it, 
Jacotot,    after   a    simple    statement   of   the    object    of 


140  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

the  lesson,  with  its  leading  divisions,  boldly  started 
it  as  a  quarry  for  the  class  to  hunt  down,  and  in- 
vited every  member  to  take  part  in  the  chase.  AW 
were  at  liberty  to  raise  questions,  make  objections, 
and  suggest  answers,  to  ask  for  facts  as  the  basis  of 
arguments,  to  repudiate  mere  diclaclic  authority.  Dur- 
ing the  discussion,  the  teacher  confined  himself  to  ask- 
ing questions,  to  suggesting  now  and  then  a  fresh  scent, 
to  requiring  clear  statements  and  mutual  courtesy;  but 
of  teaching,  in  the  popular  sense  of  the  term,  as  consist- 
ing in  the  authoritative  communication  of  knowledge, 
there  was  little  or  none.  His  object  throughout  was  to 
excite,  maintain,  and  direct  the  intellectual  energies  of 
his  pupils — to  train  theui  to  think  The  lesson  was 
concluded  by  his  summing  up  tbe  arguments  that  had 
been  adduced,  and  stating  clearly  the  results  obtained.* 

*Mr.  Wilson  of  Rugby,  in  his  admirable  paper  in  the  ''Essays  on  a 
Liberal  Educati,»ii,"  tluis  describes,  in  almost  identical  terms,  what  he 
considers  a  proper  method  of  teaching  science:— 

"  Theory  and  experience  alike  convince  me  that  the  master  who  is 
teacliing  a  class  quite  unfamiliar  with  scientific  method,  ought  to  make 
his  class  teach  themselves,  by  tliinking  out  the  subject  of  the  lecture  with 
them,  taking  up  their  suggestions  and  illustrations,  criticizing  them, 
limiting  thein  down,  and  proving  a  suggestion  barren  or  an  illustration 
inapt;  starting  tlieiu  on  a  fresh  scent  when  they  are  at  fault,  reminding 
them  of  some  familiar  fact  they  had  overlooked,  and  so  eliciting  out  of 
the  chaos  of  vague  notions  that  are  afloat  on  the  matter  in  hand— be  it  the 
laws  of  motion,  the  evaporation  of  water,  or  the  origin  of  the  drift— some- 
thing of  order,  and  concatenation,  and  interest,  before  the  key  to  the 
mystery  is  given,  even  if,  after  all,  it  has  to  be  given.  Training  to  think, 
not  to  be  a  mechanic  or  surveyor,  must  be  first  and  foremost  as  his  object. 
So  valuable  are  the  sulijects  intrinsically,  and  such  excellent  models  do 
they  provide,  that  the  most  stupid  and  didactic  teaching  will  not  be  use- 
less, but  it  will  not  be  the  same  source  of  power  that  '  the  method  of 
investigation'  will  be  in  the  liands  of  a  good  master  Smne  few  will 
work  out  a  logic  of  proof,  and  a  logic  of  discovery,  when  the  facts  and 
laws  that  are  discovere<l  and  proved  have  had  tiiiie  to  lie  and  crystallize 
in  their  minds.  But  imbued  witii  scientific  method  they  scarcely  will  be, 
unless  it  sjjrings  up  spontaneously  in  them."— "On  Teacliiiig  Natural 
Science  in  Scliools."    A'ssays  on  a  Liberal  Education,,  pp.  281,  282. 


JACOTOT.  141 

We  come  now  to  the  origin  of  Jacotot's  method.  In 
entering  on  his  duties  at  Louvain,  he  found  that  he  had 
to  lecture  to  students,  many  of  whom  knew  nothing  of 
French.  As  he  was  himself  ignorant  of  Flemish,  the 
problem  was  how  to  teach  them.  He  solved  it  in  this 
way.  He  put  into  their  hands  copies  of  Telemaque, 
which  contained  a  Flemish  translation,  not  literal,  on  the 
opposite  page.  After  some  exercises  in  pronunciation, 
he  directed  the  students,  through  an  interpreter,  to  com- 
mit to  memory  a  few  sentences  of  the  French  text,  and 
gather  their  general  meaning  from  the  version  in  their 
own  language.  They  were  told,  on  the  second,  day,  and 
for  several  days,  to  add  other  porti(>ns  in  the  same  way, 
while  carefully  repeating  from  the  beginning.  This 
process,  the  laying  in  of  materials,  was  repeated  until  a 
page  or  two  of  the  book  was  thoroughly  known — that 
is,  known  so  that  the  pupils  could  go  on  with  any  sen- 
tence of  the  French  text  from  memory,  when  the  first 
word  was  given,  or  quote  the  whole  sentence  in  which 
any  given  word  occurred,  while  they  had  at  the  same 
time  a  general  idea  of  the  meaning.  The  teacher  now 
began,  through  his  interpreter,  to  put  questions,  in  or- 
der to  test  their  knowledge,  not  only  of  the  sentences, 
as  wholes,  but  also  of  the  component  phrases  and  words. 
As  the  process  of  learning  by  heart,  and  repeating  from 
tlie  beginning,  went  on,  the  questions  became  more  close 
and  specific,  so  as  to  induce  in  the  pupils'  minds  analysis 
of  the  text  into  its  minutest  elements.  When  about 
half  the  first  book  of  T6lemaque  was  thus  intimately 
known,  Jacotot  told  them  to  relate  in  their  own  French, 
good  or  bad,  the  substance,  not  the  exact  words,  of  this 
or  that  paragraph  of  the  portion  that  they  knew,  or  to 


142  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

read  a  paragrapli  of  another  part  of  the  book,  and  write 
down  or  say  what  it  was  about.  He  was  surprised  at 
their  success  in  this  syntbetic  use  of  their  fund  of  ma- 
terials. He  praised  their  achievements;  saw,  but  took 
no  notice  of,  the  blunders;  or  if  he  did,  it  was  simply  to 
require  the  pupils  to  correct  them  themselves  by  refer- 
ence to  the  text  (just  as  Ascham  did).  He  reckoned  on 
the  power  of  the  process  itself,  which  involved  an  active 
exercise  of  the  mind,  to  correct  blunders  which  arose 
from  inadvertence.  In  a  very  short  time,  these  youths, 
learning,  repeating,  answering  questions,  were  able  to 
relate  anything  that  they  had  first  read  over.  Compo- 
sitions of  different  kinds,  their  text  furnishing  both  sub- 
jects and  language,  were  then  given,  and  it  was  found 
that  as  they  advanced  they  spontaneously  recognized  in 
their  practice  the  rules  of  orthogi'aphy  and  grammar 
(without  having  learned  them),  and  at  length  wrote  a 
language  not  their  own  better  (as  Jacotot  somewhat 
extravagantly  declared) — that  is  with  a  more  complete 
command  of  the  force,  correctness,  and  even  grace  of 
style — than  either  himself  or  any  of  his  colleagues. 

All  were  surprised  at  the  result  of  his  experiment,  but 
Jacotot  alone  perceived  the  principles  involved  in  it. 
He  saw — 

(1.)  That  his  pupils  had  learned  French,  not  through 
his  knowledge  of  it — the  circumstances  forbade  that — 
but  through  tlie  exercise  of  their  own  minds  upon  the 
matter  of  the  text,  which  they  had  committed  to  mem- 
ory. If  they  had  had  any  teacher,  the  book  had  been 
their  teachei*.  It  was  from  that  source  they  had  derived 
all  their  knowledge,  and  the  exercise  of  their  observing, 
remembering,    comparing,    generalizing,    judging,    and 


JACOTOT.  143 

analyzing  powers  upon  it   had   supi)led  tlieiu   with  the 
materials  they  employed  in  their  synthetic  applications. 

(2.)  He  saw  that,  though  he  had  been  nominally  their 
teacher,  they  had  really  taught  themselves, — that  the 
acquisitions  they  had  made  were  their  own  acquisition^', 
the  fruit  of  th':'ir  own  mental  exertions, — that  the 
method  by  which  they  had  learned  was  i-ea-lly  their 
method,  not  his. 

(3)  He  deduced  from  this  observation,  tiiat  the  func- 
tion of  the  teacher  is  that  of  an  external  raoi'al  force, 
always  in  operation  to  excite,  maintain  and  direct  the 
mental  action  of  the  pupils, — to  encourage  and  sympa- 
thize with  his  efforts,  but  never  to  supersede  them. 

After  awhile  Jacotot  presented,  in  the  form  given 
below,  the  result  of  his  meditations  on  the  principles 
involved  in  his  experiments.  This  precept  for  the  guid- 
ance of  the  teacher,  is  in  fact— as  will  be  at  once  seen — 
an  epitome  of  the  method  of  the  learner,  and  indeed  of 
all  learners,  whatever  be  their  age,  or  the  subject  they 
may  wish  to  learn  so  as  really  to  know. 

This,  then,  is  the  fundamental  precept  of  Jacotot's 
method: — Ilfaut  apprendre  quelque  chose,  et  y  rapporter  tout 
le  rede;  i.  e.,  the  pupil  must  learn  something,  and  refer 
all  the  rest  to  it.  When  further  explanation  was  de- 
manded, he  would  reply  to  this  effect: — 

(l)  Learn — i.  e.,  learn  so  as  to  know  thoroughly,  per- 
fectly, immovably  {imperturbablement),  as  well  six  months 
or  twelve  months  hence  as  now — something,  a  portion 
of  a  book,  for  instance.  (2)  Repeat  that  something,  the 
portion  learned,  incessantly — i.  e.,  every  day  or  fre- 
quently {sans  cesse),  from  the  beginnmg,  without  any 
omission,  so  that  no  part  of  it  be  forgotten.     (3)  liefted 


144  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS, 

upon  the  mattei*  thus  acquired — analyze  it,  decompose 
it,  re-combine  the  elements,  make  it  a  real  mental  pos- 
session in  all  its  details,  interpret  the  unknown  by  it. 
(4)  Verifij  -test  general  remarks— «'.  e.,  grammatical  and 
other  rules — by  comparing  them  with  the  facts — the 
phraseology  and  constructions  which  you  already  know. 
In  brief,  learn,  repeat,  reflect,  verifij,  or  if  you  like,  learn, 
verify,  repeat,  reflect;  so  that  you  learn  first,  the  order  of 
the  other  processes  is  unimportant.  Know  facts,  then; 
bring  all  the  powers  of  the  mind  to  bear  upon  them;  and 
repeat  what  you  know,  to  prevent  its  being  lost.  This 
is  the  method  of  Jacotot,  which  may  be  otherwise  repre- 
sented thus: — 

<-  In  all  your  learning,  do  homage  to  the  authority  of 
facts. 

(1)  Apprenez. — ^Learn  them  accurately;  grasp  them 
firmly;  apprehend,  so  as  to  know  them, 

(2)  Rapportez. — Compare  them  with  each  other,  inter- 
pret one  by  another,  make  the  known  explain  the  un- 
known, generalize  them,  classify  them,  analyze  them 
into  their  elements,  re-combine  the  elements,  attach  new 
knowledge  to  the  pegs  already  fixed  in  your  mind. 

(3)  Repetez. — Don't  let  the  facts  slip  away  from  you. 
To  lose  them,  is  to  waste  the  labor  you  spent  in  acquiring 
them.  Keep  them,  therefoi'e,  continually  before  you  by 
repetition. 

(4)  Verifiez. — Test  general  principles,  said  to  be  found- 
ed on  them  by  confronting  them  with  your  facts.  Bring 
your  grammatical  rules  to  the  facts,  and  explain  the 
facts  by  them. 

In  all  this  process,  the  pupil  is  employing  natural 
means  for  a  natural  end.     He  is  doing  what  he  did  in 


JACOTOT.  1 45 

the  case  of  the  pile-driving  machine — observing,  com- 
paring, investigating,  discovering,  inventing:  and  if  we 
apply  the  tests — Mr.  Marcel's  or  any  otlier — of  a  good 
method,  we  find  them  all  in  this,  which  is  the  methodof 
the  pupil,  teaching  liiinself  under  the  direction  of  the 
master. 

It  is,  in  short,  as  said  before,  the  method  by  which  all 
learners — whether  the  little  child  in  nature's  infant 
school,  or  the  adult  man  in  the  school  of  science — learn 
whatever  they  really  know.  In  both  cases,  the  essential 
basis  of  all  mental  progress  is  a  knowledge  of  facts — a 
knowledge  which,  to  be  fruitful,  must  be  gained  at  first 
hand,  and  not  on  the  report  of  others,  must  be  strict  and 
accurate,  and  must  be  firmly  retained.  These  are  the 
essential  conditions  for  the  subsequent  operations  by 
which  knowledge  is  appropriated,  assimilated,  and 
incorporated  with  the  organic  life  of  the  mind.  On  this 
point,  however,  I  cannot  further  dwell. 

In  order  to  make  the  principles  of  Jacotot's  method 
clearer  by  a  practical  example,  I  will  give,  in  some  de- 
tail an  account  of  his  plan  of  teaching  Reading. 

In  this  method,  the  sacred  mysteries  of  b-a  ha;  l-e,  he, 
in  pronouncing  which.  Dr.  Bell  gravely  tells  us  "  the 
sound  is  an  echo  to  the  sense,''''  are  together  exploded; 
those  columns  too,  all  symmetrically  arranged  in  the  ves- 
tibule of  the  temple  of  knowledge  to  the  dismay  of  the 
young  pilgrim  to  its  shrine,  are  entirely  ignored.  The 
sphynx  of  the  alphabet  never  asks  him  what  see-a-tee 
spells,  nor  devours  him  if  he  fails  to  give  the  impossible 
answer,  cat.  The  child  who  has  already  learnt  to  speak 
by  hearing  and  using  whole  words,  not  separate  letters 
' — saying  hahy,  not  hee-a^  hee-wy — has  whole  words  placed 


146  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

before  him.  These  words  are  at  first  treated  as  pic- 
tures, which  have  names  that  he  lias  to  learn  to  associ- 
ate with  the  forms,  in  the  same  way  that  he  already 
calls  a  certain  animal  shape  a  cow^  and  another  a  dog,  anci 
knows  a  certain  face  as  mamma's,  and  another  as  papa^s. 
Suppose  we  take  a  little  story,  which  begins  thus: — 

"Frank  and  Robert  were  two  little  boys  about  eight 
years  old." 

There  is,  of  course,  a  host  of  reasons  to  show  the  un- 
reasonableness of  beginning  to  teach  reading  by  whole 
words.  We  ought,  we  are  told,  to  begin  with  the  ele- 
ments, put  them  together  for  the  child,  arrange  words 
in  classes  for  him,  keep  all  difficulties  out  of  his  way, 
proceed  step  by  step  from  one  combination  to  another, 
and  so  on.  Reflecting,  however,  that  Nature  does  not 
teach  speaking  nor  give  her  object-lessons  in  this  way, 
but  first  presents  wholes,  aggregates,  compounds,  which 
her  pupil's  analytic  faculty  resolves  into  their  elements, 
the  teacher  sets  aside  all  these  speculative  difficulties; 
and,  believing  in  the  native  capacity  of  the  child  to  ex- 
ercise on  printed  words  the  same  powers  which  he  has 
already  exercised  on  spoken  words,  forms  tbe  connection 
between  the  two  by  saying  to  the  child,  "  Look  at  me  '* 
(not  at  the  book).  He  then  very  deliberately  and  dis- 
tinctly, but  without  grimacing,  utters  the  sound  "PVank'* 
two  or  three  times,  and  gets  the  child  to  do  the  same 
repeatedly,  so  as  to  secure  from  the  first  a  clear  and 
firm  articulation.  He  then  points  to  the  printed  word, 
repeats  "Frank"  and  requires  the  child,  in  view  of  it, 
to  utter  the  same  sound  several  times.  The  first  word 
is  learned  and  known.  The  teacher  adds  "and."  The 
child  reads  "Frank  and."    The  teacher  adds  "Robert." 


Jacotot's  method  illustrated.  14^ 

The  child  reads  "Frank  and  Robert."  The  teacher  asks, 
"Which  is  'Robert'?  'and"?  What  is  that  word?" 
(pointing  to  it),  "and  that?"  etc.  The  teacher  says, 
"Show  me  '  and,'  'Robert,'  'Frank,'  in  the  same  page — 
in  any  page." 

The  same  process  is  repeated   with  the  rest  of   the 
words  of  the  sentence,  and  conies  out  thus:  — 
F'rank 
Frank  and 
Frank  and  Robert 
Frank  and  Robert  were,  etc.; 
the  pupil  is  told   each   word   once  for   all,    and  repeats 
from  the   beginning,  that  nothing  ma}^  be   forgotten. 
By  thus  (1)  learning,  (2)  repeating,  he  exercises  percep- 
tion and  memory. 

Suppose  that  the  next  sentences  are — 

"They  were  both  very  fond  of  playing  with  balls, 
tops,  and  marbles. 

"  One  day,  as  they  were  playing  in  the  garden,  it 
began  to  thunder  very  loud  and  to  rain  very  hard. 

"So  they  ran  under  the  apple  tree." 

All  the  words  of  these  sentences  may  be  gradually 
learned,  in  the  same  way,  in  four,  six,  or  ten  lessons. 
There  is  no  need  for  haste.  The  only  thing  needful  is 
accurate  knowledge — to  have  something  [quelqm  chose) 
thoroughly,  perfectly,  immoveably  known  {imperturhable- 
ment  apprise). 

The  child  has  up  to  this  point  imitated  the  sounds 
given  him,  has  associated  them  with  the  signs,  has  exer- 
cised observation  and  memory;  so  that  wherever  he 
meets  with  these  words  in  his  book,  the  sign  will  suggest 


148  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

the  sound — or  given  t])C  sound,  lie  will  at  once  point  out 
the  t*ign. 

The  teacher  may  now,  if  he  thinks  fit,  begin  to  exer- 
cise the  child's  analytical  and  inductive  faculties;  not, 
however,  necessarily  on  any  symmetrical  plan.  He  says, 
"  Look  at  me,"  and  pronounces  very  distinctly  f-rank, 
repeating  the  process  in  view  of  the  printed  word.  He 
does  the  same  wnth  f-ond  and  f-aat,  and  asks  the  child, 
"  Wliich  letter  is/?"  (the  aiticulation,  not  the  name  ef). 
The  child  points  it  out,  and  in  this  way  /  (that  is,  the 
articulation,  the  power  of  it)  is  learned  and  known. 

The  teacher  covers  over  \.he  f  m  frank,  and  asks  what 
is  left.  The  child  replies  "  rank."  The  teacher  pro- 
ceeds as  before,  utteiing  r-ank,  and  requiring  the  child 
to  read  for  himself  R-ohert,  r-ain,  ran,  and  thus  the  artic- 
ulation of  initial  r  is  mastered.  In  the  same  way,  the 
articulation  Hs  gained  from  l-ittle  and  l-oud  Nor  do  the 
mutes,  as  h  and  j3,  present  any  difficulty.  The  utterance 
of  h-oys,  h-oth,  h-alls,  h-egan  suggests  the  necessary  config- 
uration of  the  organs,  and  the  function  of  these  letters 
is  appreciated. 

The  teacher  may  next,  if  he  pleases,  though  it  is  not 
necessary  to  anticipate  the  natural  results  of  the  process, 
try  the  synthetic  or  combining  powers  of  the  child.  He 
writes  on  a  black-board,  in  priming  letters,  the  words, 
fold,  falls,  fops,  fain,  frond,  fray,  ray,  rap,  lank,  flank,  last, 
loth,  lops.  Id,  lair,  lap,  bank,  hat,  hold,  hay,  blank,  etc.,  and 
requires  the  child,  without  any  help  ivhatever,  to  read  them 
himself.  Most  children  will  do  this  at  once.  If  there 
is  any  difficulty,  a  simple  reference,  to  the  words  Frank, 
little,  hoys,  etc.,  without  any  explanation,  will  immediately 
dispel  it. 


jacotot's  method  illustrated.  149 

It  is  not  necessary,  I  repeat,  for  the  teaclier  thus  to 
antici])ate  the  iiievituble  results  of  the  process.  The 
quickened  mind  of  tlie  pupil  will,  of  its  own  accord,  ana- 
lyze aj)d  combine,  in  its  natural  instinct  to  interpret 
the  unknown  by  the  known.  Tlie  only  essential  parts  of 
the  process  are  learning  and  repeating  from  the  begin- 
ning; all  the  rest  <l(.pends  on  these.  And  in  guiding 
the  mind  of  the  pupil  to  the  intellectual  use  of  his 
materials,  the  teacher  should  be  under  no  anxiety  about 
the  length  of  the  process.  He  should  often  practise  a 
masterly  inactivity;  should  know  how  to  gain  time  by 
losing  it — to  advance  by  standing  still.  If  he  have  a 
genuine  belief  in  the  native  capacity  of  his  pupils' 
minds,  he  need  have  no  fear  as  to  the  result.  The  pupil 
(1)  learning,  (2)  rejieating,  (3)  reflecting — i.  e.,  analyz- 
ing or  de-composing,  (4)  re-combining,  is  all  along  em- 
ploying his  active  powers  as  an  observer  and  investi- 
gator, and  learns  at  length  to  read  accurately  and  to 
articulate  justly.  The  names  of  the  letters  may  be  given 
him  when  he  has  thus  learned  their  powers.  It  is  a  con- 
venience, nothing  more,  to  know  them.  The  young 
carpenter  saws  and  planes  no  better  for  knowing  the 
naipes  of  his  tools. 

Such,  then,  is  Jacotot's  method  applied  to  the  teaching 
of  Reading.  It  ought,  by  theory,  to  accomplish  this 
object,  and  it  does.  While  philosophers  are  discussing 
the  propriety  of  learning  a  subject  without  beginning 
secundum  artem  at  what  they  call  the  beginning,  the  child, 
like  the  epic  poet,  dashes  in  medias  res,  and  arrives  at  the 
end  long  before  the  discussion  is  over.  A  young  inves- 
tigator of  this  school,  initiated  in  the  habit  of  actively 
employing  his  mind  ou  the  subject  of  study,   laughs  at 


150  EDUCATIONAL    METHODS. 

the  ingenious  arrangements,  however  kindly  meant, 
furnished  by  various  spelling-book  makers,  to  aid  him 
in  his  career.  He  turns  aside  from  ram,  rem,  rim,  rom, 
rum, — adge,  edge,  idge,  odge,  and  udge, — indeed,  from  all  the 
scientific  permutations  made  for  him  on  the  assumption 
that  he  cannot  make  them  himself.  He  is  told  that 
there  is  a  go-cart  provided  to  help  him  to  walk, — that 
the  food  is  ready  minced  for  his  eating:  but  he  chooses 
to  walk  and  comminute  his  food  for  himself.  Why 
should  we  prevent  him  ? 

This  method  is  essentially  the  same  as  M]\  Curwen's 
"Look  and  Say  Method,"  and  that  of  the  little  book  en- 
titled "Reading  without  Spelling,  or  the  Teacher's 
Delight;"  the  only  difference  being  that  the  teacher 
here  employs  the  process  consciously  as  a  means  of 
developing  and  training  the  mental  powers  as  well  as  of 
teaching  to  read,  of  education  as  well  as  of  instruction. 

My  pleasant  task  is  now  done.  I  have  left  much 
unsaid  that  I  wish  to  say;  and  in  criticising  others,  have, 
no  doubt,  exposed  myself  to  criticism.  As  that  is  the 
common  lot,  I  ought  not  to  complain  of  it.  I  will,  in 
conclusion,  go  over  the  main  points  which  I  have 
touched  upon  in  the  three  lectures. 

In  my  first  Lecture  I  endeavored  to  show  that  educa- 
tion is  both  a  science  and  an  art,  and  that  the  principles 
of  the  science  account  for,  "explain,  and  give  laws  to  the 
{)rocesses  of  the  art;  that  the  educator's  own  education 
is  incomplete  without  a  knowledge  of  these  principles, 
which  are  ultimately  grounded  on  those  of  Physiology, 
Psychology,  and  Ethics;  that  this  knowledge  is  useful, 
not  only  in  its  application  to  the  normal  phenomena 
occurring   in  practicCj  but  especially  to  the  abnormal, 


REVIEW.  151 

wliich  demand  for  tlieir  treatment  all  the  resources  of 
the  science;  that  knowledge  of  this  kind  is  comparatively 
rare  among  educators,  and  that  its  rarity  is  the  main 
cause  of  the  unsatisfactory  condition  of  much  of  our 
education. 

In  the  second  Lecture,  assuming  the  education  ot  the 
educator,  and  confining  myself  to  teaching,  or  the  art  of 
intellectual  education,  I  endeavored  to  show  that  the 
teacher  ought,  in  the  first  place,  to  have  a  just  concep- 
tion of  his  relation  to  his  pupil;  that  this  was  gained  by 
his  seeing  in  the  child  one  who  had  learned,  or  taught 
himself,  all  that  he  already  knew,  and  inferring,  there- 
fore, that  it  was  his  business  to  continue  the  process 
already  begun;  that  it  thus  appeared  that  the  child's 
process  of  learning  was,  to  a  great  extent,  a  guide  to  the 
teacher's  process  of  teaching,  and  that  the  joint  opera- 
tion in  which  both  were  engaged  resolved  itself  into  the 
superintendence,  or  direction,  by  the  teacher,  of  the 
pupil's  method  of  self-instruction. 

In  this  Lecture,  I  have  shown  that  a  method  of  teaching 
any  subject  is  a  special  mode  of  applying  the  art  of 
teaching;  that  to  be  a  good  method,  it  must  have  cer- 
tain characteristics,  deduced  from  successful  practice, 
and  ultimately  referable  to  the  principles  of  the  science 
of  education,  and  I  have  described,  and  to  some  extent 
criticized,  a  few  well-known  methods. 

My  simple  aim,  in  these  Lectures,  has  been  to  lead  the 
educator  to  form  a  high  idea  of  his  work;  to  show  that 
there  are  principles  undei'lying  his  practice  which  it  is 
irapoi'tant  for  him  to  know,  and  to  induce  him  to  study 
and  apply  them,  not  only  for  his  own  sake,  but  as  a 
•  protest  against  the  despotism  of  routine,  which  has  so 


152  EDUCATIONAL   METHODS. 

long  hindered  eduention  from  claimino;  its  professional 
rightsMn  England.  I  trust  I  have  not  altogether  failed 
to  accomplish  ray  purpose. 


EDUCfiTlONAL  METHODS-ANALYSIS, 

I.  Science,  Art,  and  Metliod  dixtingimhed 1 1 0 

II.  Method  the  test  of  the  Art ,  1 1  (I 

1.  Best  method  that  which  teaches  the  pupil  to  thiol?,. !  IT 
(a)  Centrifugal  and  centripetal  forces 117 

2.  Characteristics  of  a  good  method 118 

{a)  Beginning  witli  the  tangible 118 

{b)  Employing  first  analysis,  then  synthesis 118 

(c)  Making  the  pupil  an  explorer 11!) 

{d)  Leading  him  from  the  known  to  the  unknown __.l  1!) 

{e)  Imparting  only  clear  ideas 119 

(/)  Leading  to  mental  self-direction ...  1 1 9 

{q)  Dispensing  with  explanations 119 

3.  The  teacher  must  know  the  mind  he  deals  with r20 

III.  Marcel's  doctrine  of  Methods 1 20 

1.  A  good  method  favors  self-teachinir 121 

2.  A  good  method  is  in  accordance  with  nature ..121 

3.  A  good  methdd  comprises  analysis  and  synthesis 121 

4.  A  good  method  is  both  practical  and  comparative. .132 

5.  A  good  method  is  an  instrument  of  mental  culture..  122 

IV.  Roger  Ascham's  method  of  teaching  Latin. 

1.  Its  leading  features: 

(a)  Memorizing  of  material  to  work  with 124 

{b)  Translation  of  Cicero's  letters 124 

(c)  Application  of  grammatical  principles  learned 124 

(rf)  Review 124 

(e)   Reproduction  of  the  letter  in  English 124 

(/)  Re-translation  of  the  letter  into  Latin 124 

{g)  Comparison  with  the  original 125 

(/t)  Translation  of  English  into  Latin  he  has  not  seen.  127 

2.  Characterized  by  a  complete  mastery  of  a  little 127 

(a)  Prime  requisite  to  good  method ...128 

153 


^EDUCATIONAL   METHODS. 

a  The  end  should  be  to  do  !,  ]itt]e  ^ell      128 

fj  Not  many  things  but  much 128 

(J)  This  principle  forgotten  in  some  modern  systems.. lao 

(c)  The  school  not  for  the  few,  but  for  tlie  many 129 

V.  Principles  of  the  German  Educators  of  the  17th  Century  ^  129 

1.  Proceed  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract.. ._130 

2.  Analysis  precedes  synthesis 130 

3.  The  pupil  teaches  himself,  render  direction .130 

4.  The  interested  pupil  needs  no  coercion 130 

5.  Only  what  is  understood  should  be  memorized 130 

VI.  Pestalozzi. 

1.  His  character 130 

(«)  A  man  uneducated  and  undisciplined 131 

Q))  His  mind  active  and  enterprising... .131 

(c)  His  moral  power  immense 131 

a  A  teacher  because  a  philanthropist 132 

{d)  Did  not  conceive  the  higher  end  of  training 132 

2.  His  method  of  teaching ..133 

{a)  Form  taught  without  superintendence 133 

{h)  iVi/irnJer  taiigiit  with  imperfect  superintendence.. 134 

a  But  begun  with  concrete  objects.. 134 

fS  Employed  the  pupil's  observation 134 

(c)  Language  taught  by  names,  not  things 135 

ft  Object-teaching  by /i«wies  of  properties 137 

(i  To  be  taught  through  slavish  routine 137 

y  Spelling-books  for  inarticulate  babies 137 

3.  Little  to  be  gained  directly  from  his  method 138 

VII.  Jacoiot,  an  educator  of  mind,  rather  than  of  forces 138 

1.  His  history ..138 

2.  His  characteristics: 

(a)  A  dull  and  "objectionable"  scholar 139 

{b)  Self-taught  even  from  childhood 140 

3.  His  style  of  teaching... 140 

(a)  To  excite,  maintain,  and  direct  mental  energy 140 

4.  History  of  his  methods: 

(«)  Effort  to  teach  Flemish  children  French 141 

{b)  Principles  established  by  the  experiment 143 


ANALYSIS.  165 

a  The  language  loarned  by  direct  study 143 

/j  The  pupils  their  own  teachers 143 

;'  The  function  of  the  teacher  to  direct  mental 

action 143 

5.  Principle:  Learn  one  thing,  and  refer  the  rest  to  lhat.144 

(a)  Learn,  so  as  to  know  thoroughly 144,  143 

(b)  Repeat,  so  that  nothing  be  forgotten 144,  145 

(o)  Reflect,  so  that  it  becomes  a  mental  possession. 144,  145 
(rf)  Verify,  by  comparison  with  facts 144,  145 

6.  Illustration  of  Jacotot's  method ^146 

{a)  Alphabetical  teaching  of  reading  discarded 14G 

(b)  First,  the  word-method 147 

(c)  Then  the  phonic  method. _..148 

{(l)  The  teacher's  masterly  inactivity ---15o 

(e)  It  does  teach  the  pupil  to  read 1 52 

VIII.  Review  of  the  previous  lectures 153 


PRINCIPLES  OF 
THE  SCIENCE  OF  EDUCATION. 


I.  General  PRiNCirLES. 

1.  Every  child  is  an  organism,  furnished  by  the  Cre- 
ator with  inherent  capabilities  of  action,  and  surround- 
ed by  material  objects  which  serve  as  stimulants  to  ac- 
tion'. 

2.  The  channels  of  communication  between  the  ex- 
tern al  stimulants  and  the  child's  inherent  capabilities  of 
action  are  the  sensory  organs,  by  whose  agency  he  re- 
ceives impressions. 

3.  These  impressions,  or  sensations,  being  incapable 
of  resolution  into  anything  simpler  than  themselves,  are 
the  fundamental  elements  of  nil  knowledge.  The  de- 
velopment of  the  mind  being  with  the  reception  of  sen- 
sation. 

4.  The  grouping  of  sensations  forms  perceptions, 
which  are  registered  in  the  mind  as  conception  of  ideas.* 
The  development  of  the  mind,  which  begins  with  the 
recei)tion  of  sensations,  is  carried  onward  by  the  forma- 
tion of  ideas. 

5.  The  action  and  reaction  between  the  external 
stimulants  and  the  mind's  inherent   powers,  involving 

*  By  "conception,"  or  "idea,"  is  meant  tlie  trace,  residuum,  or  ideal  sub- 
stitute wliicli  represents  the  real  perception. 
166 


r.ENKRAL    PRINCIPLES.  l57 

processes  of  developrnontf  and  implying  growth,  may  be 
regarded  as  constituting  a  system  of  natural  education. 

6.  A  system  of  education  implies — (1)  an  educating 
influence,  or  educator;  (2)  a  being  to  be  educated,  or 
learner;  (3)  matter  for  tlie  exercise  of  the  learner's  pow- 
ers; (4)  a  method  by  which  the  action  of  these  powers  is 
elicited;  and  (5)  an  end  to  be  accomplished. 

7.  In  the  case  before  us,  the  educating  influence,  or 
educator,  is  God,  represented  by  Nature,  or  natural  cir- 
cumstances; the  being  to  be  educated,  or  learner,  a 
child;  the  matter,  the  objects  and  i^henomena  of  the  ex- 
ternal world;  the  method,  the  processes  by  which  this 
matter  is  brought  into  communication  with  the  learner's 
mind;  and  the  object  or  end  in  view,  intellectual  de- 
velopment and  growth. 

In  view  of  the  different  agencies  concerned  in  effect- 
ing this  intellectual  education,  and  of  their  mutual  re- 
lation, we  arrive  at  the  following: 

II.    Peixciples  of  Natural  Edijcation, 

I.  Nature,  as  an  educator,  recognizes  throughout  all 
his  operations  the  inherent  capabilities  of  the  learner. 
The  laws  of  the  learner's  being  govern  the  educator's 
action,  and  determine  what  he  does,  and  what  he  leaves 
undone.  He  ascertains,  as  it  were,  from  the  child  hitn- 
self  ho^v  to  conduct  his  education. 

II.  The  natural  educator  is  the  prime  mover  and  di- 
rector of  the  action  and  exercise  in  which  the  learner's 
education  consists. 

III.  The  natural  educator  moves  the  learners's  mind 

t  The  term  "development"  is  here  employed  for  that  unfolding  of  the 
natural  powers  of  which  "growth"  is  the  registered  result. 


158  PRINCIPLES    OF    EDUCATION. 

to  action  by  exciting  his  interest  in  the  new,  the  won- 
derful, the  beautiful;  and  maintains  this  action  through 
the  pleasure  felt  by  the  learner  in  the  simple  exercise  of 
his  own  powers — the  pleasure  of  developing  nnd  growing 
by  means  of  acts  of  observing,  experimenting,  discover- 
ing, inventing,  performed  by  himself — of  being  his  own 
teacher. 

IV.  The  natural  educator  limits  himself  to  supply- 
ing material  suitable  for  the  exercise  of  the  learner's 
powers,  stimulating  these  powers  to  action,  and  main- 
taining their  action.  He  co-operates  with,  but  does  not 
supersede,  this  action. 

V.  The  intellectual  action  and  exercise  in  which  the 
learner's  education  essentially  consists  are  performed  by 
himself  alone.  It  is  what  he  does  himself,  not  what  is 
done  for  him,  that  educates  him. 

VI.  The  child  is  therefore  a  learner  who  educates 
himself  under  the  stimulus  and  direction  of  the  natural 
educator. 

VII.  The  learner  educates  himself  by  his  personal 
experience;  that  is,  by  the  direct  contact  of  his  mind  at 
first  hand -with  the  matter — object  of  fact — to  be  learned. 

VII [.  The  mind,  in  gaining  knowledge  for  itself, 
proceeds  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  from  par- 
ticular facts  to  general  facts,  or  principles;  and  from 
principles  to  laws,  rules,  and  definitions;  and  not  in  the 
inverse  order. 

IX.  The  mind,  in  gaining  knowledge  for  itself,  pro- 
ceeds from  the  indefinite  to  the  definite,  from  the  com- 
pound to  the  simple,  from  complex  aggregates  to  their 
component  parts,  from  the  component  parts  to  their 
Qonstitutional  elements — by  the    method  of  Investiga- 


JNATURAL    EDUCATION.  159 

tfon.     It  employs  both  Analysis  and   Synthesis  in  close 
connection. 

X.  The  learner's  process  of  self-edncation  is  condi- 
tioned by  certain  laws  of  intellectual  action.  These  are 
— (1]  the  Law  of  Consciousness;  (2)  of  Attention,  includ- 
ing that  of  Individuation,  or  singling  out;  (3)  of  Relativ- 
ity, including  those  of  Discrimination  and  Similarity; 
(4)  of  Retentiveness,  including  those  of  Memory  and 
Recollection;  (5)  of  Association,  or  Grouping;  (6)  of 
Reiteration,  or  Repetition,  including  that  of  Habit. 

XL  Memory  is  the  result  of  attention,  and  attention 
is  the  concentration  of  all  the  powers  of  the  mind  on  the 
matter  to  be  learned.  The  art  of  memory  is  the  art  of 
paying  attention. 

XII.  Ideas  gained  by  personal  experience  are  sub- 
jected by  the  mind  to  certain  processes  of  elaboration ; 
as  classification,  abstraction,  generalization,  judgment, 
and  reasoning.  These  processes  imply  the  possession  of 
ideas  gained  by  personal  experience,  and  they  are  all 
performed  by  the  youngest  child  who  possesses  ideas. 

XIII.  The  learner's  knowledge  consists  in  ideas,  gained 
from  objects  and  facts  by  his  own  powers,  and  conscious- 
ly possessed — not  in  words.  The  natural  educator,  by 
his  action  and  influence,"  secures  the  learner's  possession 
of  clear  and  definite  primary  ideas.  Such  ideas,  so 
gained,  are  necessarily  incorporated  with  the  organic 
life  of  the  learner's  mind,  and  become  a  permanent  part 
of  his  being. 

XIV.  Words  are  the  conventional  signs,  the  objec- 
tive representatives,  of  ideas,  and  their  value  to  the 
learner  depends  on  his  previous  possession  of  the  ideas 


160  PRINCIPLES    OP   EDUCATION. 

they  represent.     The  words,  without  the  ideas,  are  not 
knowledge  to  liim, 

XV.  Personal  experience  is  the  condition  of  develop- 
ment, whether  of  the  body,  mind,  or  moral  sense.  What 
the  child  does  himself,  and  loves  to  do,  forms  his  habits 
of  doing;  but  the  natural  educator,  by  develoi^ing  his 
powers  and  promoting  their  exercise,  also  guides  him  to 
the  formation  of  right  habits.  He  therefore  encourages 
the  physical  development  which  makes  the  child  healthy 
and  robust,  the  intellectual  development  which  makes 
him  thoughtful  and  reasonable,  and  the  moral  develop- 
ment which  makes  him  cajDable  of  appreciating  the  beau- 
tiful and  the  good.  This  threefold  development  of  the 
child's  powers  tends  to  the  formation  of  his  bodily,  men- 
tal, and  moral  character,  and  prepares  him  to  recognize 
the  claims  of  religion. 

XVI.  Education  as  a  whole  consists  of  development 
and  training,  and  may  therefore  be  defined  as  "the  cul- 
tivation of  all  the  native  powers  of  the  child,  by  exercis- 
ing them  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  his  being  with 
a  view  to  development  and  growth." 


The  above  general  facts  or  principles  being  the  results 
of  an  analytical  investigation  into  the  nature  of  thechild 
as  a  thmking  being,  and  into  the  processes  by  which  his 
earliest  education  is  carried  on,  constitute  the  Science 
of  Natural  Education. 

But  as  it  is  the  same  tiiind  which  is  to  be  cultivated 
throughout,  Natural  E'lucation  is  the  pattern  or  model 
of  Formal  Education,  and  consequently  the  Science  of 
Natural  Education  is  the  Science  of  Education  in  gen- 
eral. 


THE    ART   OP    EDUCATION.  161 

The  formal  educator  or  teacher,  therefore,  who  pro- 
fesses to  take  up  and  continue  the  education  begun  by 
Nature,  is  to  found  his  scheme  of  action  upon  the 
above  principles,  and  in  supplementing  and  compliment- 
ing the  natural  educators's  work,  he  is  to  proceed  on  the 
same  lines.  He  is  not  to  intrude  modes  of  action  which 
contravene  and  neutralize  the  principles  of  natural  edu- 
cation. 

III.     The  Art  of  Education. 

1.  Art  is  the  application  of  the  laws  of  Science  to  a 
given  subject  under  given  circumstances. 

2.  The  Art  of  Education,  or  Teaching,  is  the  explicit 
display  of  the  implicit  priuciples  of  the  Science  of  Edu- 
cation. 

3.  The  principles  alreadj'  stated  set  the  child  or  pu- 
pil before  us  as  one  who  gains  knowledge  for  himself,  at 
first  hand,  by  the  exercise  of  his  own  native  powers, 
through  personal  experience,  and  therefore  as  a  learner 
who  teaches  himself. 

4  This  is  the  central  principle  of  the  Art  of  Teach- 
ing. It  serves  as  a  limit  to  define  both  the  functions  of 
the  formal  teacher,  and  the  nature  of  the  matter  on 
which  ihe  learner's  powers  are  first  to  be  exercised — 
that  is,  of  the  subject  of  instruction. 

5.  The  limit  which  includes  also  excludes — it  pro- 
scribes as  well  as  j^rescribes.  The  teacher  who  regards 
the  child  as  a  learner  who  is  to  teach  liimsulf  through 
personal  experience  is  therefore  interdicted  from  doing 
anything  to  interfere  with  the  learner's  own  method, — 
from  telling,  cramming,  explaining,  and  even  from  cor- 
recting, merely  on  his  own  authority,  the  learner's  blun- 
ders.    The  function  assigned  him  by  the  Science  of  Edu- 


162  PRINCIPLES    OF    EDtJCATIOJ^. 

cation  is  that  of  a  stimulator,  director,  and  s'Uperintend- 
ent  of  the  learner's  work,  and  to  that  office  he  is  to  co)i- 
fine  himself. 

6.  But  the  limit  in  question  determines  also  the 
character  of  the  matter  on  which  the  learner's  powers 
are  to  be  first  exercised.  If  he  is  to  teach  himself,  he 
can  only  do  so  by  exercising  his  mind  on  concrete  ob- 
jects or  actions — on  facts.  These  furnish  him  with 
ideas.  He  cannot  teach  himself  by  abstractions,  rules, 
and  definitions,  packed  up  for  him  in  words  by  others; 
for  these  do  not  furnish  him  with  ideas  of  his  own.  In 
all  that  he  has  to  learn  he  must  begin  with  facts — that  is, 
with  personal  experience.  It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  con- 
ception of  the  learner  as  a  self-teacher  determines  both 
the  manner  in   which  he  is  to  be  taught  and  the  means. 

7.  This  notion  of  the  Art  of  Teaching,  which  has 
specially  in  view  the  period  of  the  child's  life  when  the 
formal  teacher  first  takes  him  in  hand,  in  order  to 
develop  and  train  his  mind,  is  capable  of  general  appli- 
cation. It  applies  therefore,  with  tlie  requisite  modifi- 
cations, to  instruction  properly  so  called,  which  consists 
in  the  orderly  and  systematic  building  of  knowledge 
into  the  mind,  with  a  definite  object. 

8.  The  teacher,  therefore,  educates  by  instructing, 
and  instructs  by  educating.  Education  and  instruction 
are  diiferent  aspects  of  the  same  process. 

9.  The  sttm  of  what  has  been  laid  down  is,  that  the 
Art  of  Education  consists  in  the  practical  application  of 
principles  gained  by  studying  the  nature  of  the  child; 
the  central  iDrinciple,  which  governs  all  the  rest,  being 
that  it  is  what  tlie  child  does  for  and  by  himself  that 
educates  him. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  EDUCATIOH-ANALYSIS. 


I.   General  Principles. 

1.  The  child  is  au  organism...- 155 

2.  He  receives  impressions  by  the  sensory  organs .155 

3.  These  sensations  are  the  elements  of  knowledge 155 

4.  The  grouping  of  sensations  forms  perceptions 155 

5.  Action  and  re  action  constitute  education 156 

6.  A  system  of  education  requires: 

{a)  An  educator,  (6)  a  learner,  (c)  matter,  (d)  method, 

(e)  an  end- 156 

7.  In  natural  education  Nature  is  the  teacher 156 

II.  Principles  of  the  Science  of  Educdtion. 

1.  Nature  recognizes  inherent  capabilities 156 

2.  The  teacher  is  the  mover  and  director 157 

3.  The  learner's  mind  is  stimulated  by  being  interested.  .157 

4.  Suitable  material  provided,  the  pupil  does  the  work.  157 

5.  The  child  is  educated  by  what  he  does  himself 157 

6.  The  child  educates  himself  under  direction 157 

7.  The  learner  educates  himself  by  personal  experience -157 

8.  The  mind  proceeds  from  concrete  to  abstract 157 

9.  The  mind  employs  both  analysis  and  synthesis 158 

10.  Self-education  is  conditioned  by  the  laws  of: 

(ffi)  Consciousness,  {b)  attention,  {c)  relativity,  {d)  re 

tentiveness,  (e)  association,  (/)  repetition 158 

11.  Meniory  is  the  result  of  attention 158 

12.  Sensations  are  elaborated  by  classification,  etc 158 

13.  The  learner's  knowledge  is  measured  by  ideas, 

not  words -  - -  - - 158 

14.  Words  valuable  only  to  represent  ideas  possessed. -.159 

15.  Personal  experience  a  condition  of  development 159 

16.  Education  consists  of  development  and  training 159 

163 


164  ANALYSIS. 

III.  Principles  of  the  Art  of  Education. 

1.  Art  the  application  of  {generals  to  particulars 160 

2.  The  Art  of  Education  explicit  display  of  the  Science.  160 

3.  The  child  is  a  learner  who  teaches  himself .-160 

4.  This  is  the  central  principle _.  160 

5.  Telling,  cramming,  exp4aining,  interdicted 161 

6.  The  pupil  must  begin  with  personal  experience 161 

7.  This  art  is  to  be  practically  applied  to  instruction. .161 

8.  Education  by  instruction,  instruction  by  education.  162 

9.  What  the  child  does  is  what  educates  him 162 


THEORIES    OF   TEACPIING    WITH   THEIR 
CORRESPONDING  PRACTICE.* 


There  are,  as  we  know,  many  metliods  of  leaching. 
There  are,  for  instance,  Aschara's,  Hamilton's,  and  Ollen- 
dorf's  method  of  teaching  languages,  and  Pestalozzi's 
and  Jacotot's  methods  of  teaching  generally;  there  are 
the  methods  of  the  old  Grammar  School,  and  those  of 
the  Dame  Schools,  and  of  the  Kindergarten  and  a  great 
many  others.  Each  of  these  has  a  theory  which  under- 
lies it  and  accounts  for  its  specialty.  Into  the  details, 
however,  of  various  methods  I  am  not  about  to  enter;  my 
purpose  is  the  more  general  one  of  endeavoring  to  ascei'- 
tain  the  leading  spii'it  which  pervades  them  all,  inde- 
pendently, for  the  most  part,  of  the  details. 

A  little  consideration  of  the  subject,  will,  I  believe, 
justify  us  in  taking,  as  the  criterion  of  this  spirit,  the 
aspect  under  which  we  I'egird  the  relation  of  the  teacher  to 
the  pupil,  and  of  both  to  their  joint  work.  One  teacher 
may  regard  the  communication  of  his  own  ideas  to  his 
pupil  as  his  proper  and  special  function,  and  their  minds 
as  a  sort  tabula  rasa,  on  which  he  has  to  write  himself- 
According  to  this  theory,  he  will  then  treat  them  merely 
as  recipients,  and  will  carefully  tell  them  what  they  ought 
to  receive,  and  how  they  ought  to  receive  it.  In  placing 
facts  before   them,  he   will  tell  them  what  conclusions 

*Read  at  a  meeting  of  the  Education  Department  of  tlie  Social  Science 
Association,  Monday,  26tli  April  1869. 

165 


166  THEORY    OF    EDUCATION". 

they  are  to  draw  from  them.  When  his  pupils  comm.it 
faults  he  will  correct  them  himself  even  though  no  use 
whatever  is  made  of  the  corrections  by  them.  He  will 
be  so  careful  that  the  pupil  should  not  go  wrong  that  he 
will  continually  interfere  with  his  free  action,  by  urging 
him  to  aim  at  this  point  and  avoid  that — in  short,  he 
will  assume  that  the  ability  of  the  pupil  to  observe, 
compare,  reason,  think,  depends  almost  entirely  upon  his 
own  continual  telling,  showing,  explaining,  and  thinking 
for  him.  Such  a  teacher  evidently  has  a  mean  opinion  of 
the  pupil's  i^owers,  he  assumes  that  they  cannot  work 
without  the  constant  intervention  of  his  own,  and  con- 
siders that  in  the  joint  operation  carried  on  by  himself 
and  his  pupil,  he  takes,  and  ought  to  take,  the  larger 
share. 

Another  teacher  entertains  a  very  different  view  of 
the  relation  he  sustains  to  his  })upil.  He  sets  out, 
indeed,  with  a  different  estimate  of  the  pupil's  native 
ability,  which  he  regards  as  competent  to  observe  facts, 
compare  them  together  and  draw  inferences  respecting 
them  without  any  authoritative  interference  on  his  part. 
He  sees  this  native  faculty  at  work  in  daily  life,  and 
therefore  knows  that  it  can  be  erajDloyed  in  self-instruc- 
tion. He  trusts  in  it,  therefore,  and  never  tells  the 
pupil  what  he  can  find  out  for  himself;  he  does  not 
superfluously  explain  relations  between  objects  or  facts 
which  exjilain  themselves  by  the  simple  juxtaposition  of 
the  objects  and  facts.  He  does  not  correct  blunders 
which  almost  invariably  arise  either  from  insufiicient 
knowledge  or  from  carelessness:  in  the  one  case  he 
requires  the  pupil  to  gain  the  knowledge  required,  or 
leaves  the  blunder  for  subsequent  correction;    in    the 


THE    OIJ)    EDUCATION,    AND    THE    NEW.  167 

otliei-  he  demands  more  attention,  and  expects  the  ])npil 
to  correct  his  own  blunders.  He  feels  no  inordinate 
anxiety  about  his  pupil's  occasional  errors  of  judgment, 
jirovided  that  his  mind  is  actively  engaged  in  the  subject 
under  instruction,  in  short,  seeing  that  the  child  is  pur- 
suing, in  a  natural  Avay,  his  own  self-teaching,  he  is 
anxious  not  to  supersede  his  efforts  by  any  needless,  and 
probably  injurious,  interference  with  the  process.  He 
judges,  therefore,  that  in  the  joint  operation  referred  to 
it  is  the  pupil  and  not  himself  who  is  to  take  the  far 
larger  share,  inasmuch  as  the  pupil's  ultimate  power  of 
thinking  will  be  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  teacher's 
thinking  for  him. 

It  is  evident  that  these  different  conceptions  of  the 
relation  between  the  teacher  and  the  pupil,  are  not 
easily  reconcilable  with  each  other,  and  that  the  practi- 
cal results  must  be  respectively  very  different.  These 
results  I  will  not  now  endeavor  to  estimate,  but  address 
myself  to  r>iy  immediate  purpose,  which  is  to  maintain 
the  latter  theory,  and  to  show  that  learning  is  essentially 
self-tuition,  and  teaching  the  superintendence  of  the  process; 
and,  in  short,  that  compendiously  stated,  the  essential 
function  of  the  teacher  consists  in  helping  the  pupil  to 
teach  himself. 

It  may  be  worth  wliile  to  inquire  for  a  few  minutes 
into  the  exact  meaning,  as  fixed  by  etymological  consid- 
erations, of  the  words  learn  and  teach.  As  words  repre- 
sent ideas,  we  may  thus  ascertain  what  conceptions 
were  apparently  intended  to  be  represented  by  these  or 
equivalent  symbols.  Now  it  does  seem  remarkable  that, 
in  European  languages  at  least,  to  learn  means  to  gather 
or  glean  for  oneself — and  teach,  to  guide  or  superintend. 


168  THEORIES    OF   EDUCATION. 

In  no  case  that  I  ana  aware  of  do  these  words  imply  a 
correlation  of  receptivitij  on  the  one  hand,  with  communi- 
cativeness on  the  other.  A  brief  referenoo  to  the  facts 
will  be  sufficient  to  show  this.  I  take  the  wora  lca*-n 
first,  becai;se  learning  must  precede  teacliing.  Learn,  in 
the  earliest  form  of  our  lauguaae,  which  we  erroneously 
call  Anglo-Saxon  instead  of  Original  or  Primitive  Eng- 
lish, was  leorn-ian,  a  derivative  of  the  simpler  form  Icer-an, 
to  teach.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  longer 
form  with  the  epenthetic  n  represents  a  class  of  words 
once  not  uncommon  in  Gothic  languages,  though  now  no 
longer  recognized  in  practice — I  mean  words  endued  in 
themselves  Mith  the  functions  of  reflective  or  passive 
verbs.  Thus,  in  Moeso-Gothic,  we  have  lukan,  to  shut  or 
lock  up,  luhi-an,  to  lock  oneself  up,  or  to  be  locked  up; 
wak  an,  to  wake  another,  xoahi-ayi,  to  wake  oneself,  to  be 
awake.  We  have  the  corresponding  awake  arid  awaken 
ourselves.  If  this  analogy  be  correct,  then  leorn-ian,  as 
connected  with  Icer-an,  to  teach,  means  to  teach  oneself, 
i.  e.,  to  learn.  As,  however,  the  director  of  a  work 
often  gets  the  credit  due  to  his  subaltern,  so  the  pei'son 
who  directed  his  pupil  to  do  his  work  of  teaching  him- 
self was  formerly  said — and  the  usage  still  exists — to 
learn  or  larn  the  pupil.  In  nearly  all  European  lan- 
o-uacjes,  this  double  force  of  the  word  is  found.  Three 
hundred  years  ago  even  it  was  unquestionably  good 
English  to  say,  as  Cranmer  does  in  his  versioti  ot  the 
Psalter — "  Lead  me  forth  in  thy  truth  and  learn  me," 
and  as  Shakespeare  does  in  the  person  of  Caliban — "The 
red  plague  rid  you  for  learning  me  your  language." 
But  whiit  does  the  original  root  leer  mean '?  It  is  evi- 
dently equivalent  to  the  jMoeso-Gothic  lais  or  les ;  s  being 


ETYMOLOGY    OF    "  TEACH  "    AND    "  LEARN."  169 

intercliangeable  witli  r,  as  we  see  in  the  Latin,  arhos,  arbor 
and  in  the  German,  etsen,  compared  with  our  iron.  But 
the  Moeso-Gotiiic  lais  or  les  is  identical  with  the  German, 
les  or  lesen,  and  means  to  pluck.,  gather,  acquire,  read,  learn, 
and  we  have  still  a  trace  of  it  in  our  provincial  word 
leasing — gleaning  or  gathering  up.  The  primitive  mean- 
ing then  of  the  root  lar,  of  our  original  English  must 
have  been  the  same  as  that  of  the  Moeso-Gothic  les^ 
though,  for  reasons  already  referred  to,  the  causative 
sense  to  make  to  gather,  acquire  or  learn,  must  have  been 
very  early  super-added.  On  the  whole,  then,  it  appears 
sufficiently  clear  that  to  learn  is  to  gather  or  glean  for 
oneself — i.  e.,  to  teach  oneself.  But  the  correlative  teach 
also  requires  a  moment's  consideration.  This  is  derived 
from,  or  equivalent  to,  the  original  English,  tcec  or  tach 
(in  tsec-an  or  ta3ch-an),  to  the  German,  zeig  (in  zeigen),  to 
the  Moeso-Gothic  tech  (in  techan),  to  the  Latin  doc  (in 
docere),  or  die  in  di(c)scere  (of  which  the  ordinary  form 
is  discere)  and  to  the  Greek  Seik  (in  dei/cwm).  This 
common  root  means  to  show,  point  out,  direct,  lead  the  wag. 
The  same  idea  is  conveyed  by  the  French  equivalents 
montrer  and  enseigner,  both  meaning,  as  we  know,  to  teach. 

The  etymology,  then,  in  both  instances  supports  the 
theoiy  that  learning  is  gathering  up  or  acquiring  for  one- 
self, and  teaching,  the  guiding,  directing,  or  superintend- 
ing of  that  process. 

The  pupil,  then,  by  this  theory  is  to  advance  by  his 
own  efforts,  to  work  for  himself,  to  learn  for  himself;  to 
think  for  inmself ;  and  the  teacher's  function  is  to  con- 
sist mainly  in  earnest  and  sympathizing  direction.  He 
is  to  devote  his  knowledge,  intelligence,  virtue,  and  ex- 
perience to  that  object.     He  has  himself  travelled  the 


1*70  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION. 

road  before  which  he  and  iiis  young  companion  are  to 
travel  together;  lie  knows  its  difficulties,  and  can  sym- 
pathize with  the  struggles  which  must  he  made  against 
them.  He  will  therefore  endeavor  to  gain  his  pupil's 
confidence,  by  entering  into  them,  and  by  suggesting 
adequate  motives  for  exertion  when  he  sees  the  needful 
courage  failing.  He  will  encourage  and  animate  every 
honest  and  manful  effort  of  his  pupil,  but,  remembering 
that  he  is  to  be  v^. guide  and  not  a  hearer,  he  will  not  even 
attempt  to  supersede  that  labor  and  exercise  which  con- 
stitute the  value  of  the  discipline  to  the  pupil,  which  he 
cannot  take  upon  himself  without  defeating  the  very 
end  in  view. 

It  is  worth  while  here  to  meet  a  plausible  objection 
which  has  been  taken  against  this  view  of  the  teacher's 
function.  If,  it  is  said,  the  pupil  really  after  all  learns 
by  himself  without  the  intervention  of  the  teacher's 
mind  in  the  process — though  the  intervention  of  hiswor- 
al  influence  is  strenuously  insisted  on — then  this  superin- 
tendent of  other  people's  efforts  to  gain  knowledge  may 
really  have  none  himself;  this  director  of  machinery  ujay 
know  nothing  of  mechanics.  This  objection  is  perti- 
nent and  deserves  attention.  It  is  obvious  that  the  teach- 
er who  is  really  able  to  enter  into  his  pupil's  difficulties 
in  learning  effectively  ought  to  be  well  furnished  with 
knowledge  and  experience.  Knowledge  of  the  subject 
under  instruction  is  to  be  required  of  the  teacher,  both  be- 
cause the  recognized  possession  of  it  gives  him  weight 
and  influence,  and  because  the  jjossession  of  a  large 
store  of  well-digested  knowledge  is  itself  distinct  evidence 
that  its  owner  has  gone  through  a  course  of  healthful 
mental  discipline,  and  is  on  that  ground — other   things 


THE    TEACHEtt    A    GUIDE.  1*71 

being  equal — a  fit  and  jn-oper  person  to  superintend 
those  wlio  are  going  tlirough  the  same  discipline. 
Knowledge  also  of  a  S])ecial  kind  he  ought  to  have — 
that  derived  Ironi  thoughtful  study,  accompanied  by 
practice,  of  the  machinery  which  he  is  to  direct.  He  is 
not,  by  the  assumption,  iiimself  an  essential  part  of  it, 
but  as  an  overlooker  or  engineer  he  certainly  ought  to 
be  acquainted  with  its  natui'e  and  construction,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  estimate  its  working  power,  and  to  know 
when  to  start  and  when  to  stop  it,  to  prevent  both  in- 
action and  overaction.  A  teacher,  then,  without  some 
knowledge  of  psychology,  gained  both  systematically 
and  by  experience  and  observation, could  hardly  be  con- 
sidered as  fully  equipped  for  this  work.  But  I  need  not 
dwell  further  on  this  point,  though  I  could  not  well 
leave  it  unnoticed. 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  teacher  of  apupil  who  teach- 
es himself  will  find  quite  enough  to  do  in  his  work  of 
superintendence  and  sympathy.  It  is  only  as  far  as  the 
mental  process  of  learning  that  the  pupil  is  in  any  sense 
independent  of  him. 

I  do  not  profess  to  describe  in  philosophic  terms 
what  the  mental  process  which  we  call  learning  really 
is,  but  it  is  necessary  for  my  argument  to  maintain  that 
whatever  it  is,  it  can  no  more  be  pex'formed  by  deputy 
than  eating,  drinking,  or  sleeping,  and  further,  that 
every  one  engaged  in  performing  it  is  really  teaching 
himself.  If,  then,  the  views  Ihave  suggested  of  the  re- 
lation between  the  teacher  and  the  learner  be  generally 
correct,  and  the  latter  really  learns  by  teaching  himself, 
it  would  follow  that  if  we  could  only  ascertain  his  meth- 
od as  a  learner,  we  should  obtain  the  true  elements  of 


172  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATIO^^ 

ours  as  teachers;  or  in  otiier  woriis,  that  true  principles 
of  the  art  of  teaching  would  be  educed  from  those  in- 
volved in  the  art  of  learning,  though  the  converse  is  by- 
no  means  true. 

The  establishment  of  these  principles  would  furnish 
us  with  a  test  of  the  real  value  of  some  of  the  practices 
in  current  use  amongst  teachers,  and  perhaps  help  to  lay 
the  foundation  of  that  teaching  of  the  future,  which  will 
as  I  believe,  indentify  self-tuition,  under  competent 
guidance,  with  the  scientific  method  of  investigation. 

But  I  must  endeavor  to  enlarge  the  field  inquiry,  and 
show  that  self-tuition  under  guidance  is  the  only  possi- 
ble method  in  the  acquirement  of  that  elementary  in- 
struction which  is  the  common  property  of  the  whole  hu- 
man race.  Long  before  the  teacher,  with  his  apparatus 
of  books,  maps,  globes,  diagrams,  and  lectures,  appears 
in  the  field,  the  child  has  been  pursuing  his  own  educa- 
tion under  the  direction  of  a  higher  teacher  than  any  of 
those  who  bear  the  technical  name.  He  has  been  learn- 
ing the  facts  and  ])lienomena  which  stand  for  words 
and  phrnses  in  the  great  book  of  Natuie,  and  has  also 
learned  some  of  the  conventional  signs  by  which  those 
facts  and  phenomena  are  known  in  his  mother-tongue. 

As  my  general  proposition  is  that  the  art  of  teaching 
should  be,  as  far  as  possible  founded  on  those  processes 
by  which  nature  teaches  those  who  have  no  olher  teacher 
— those  who  learn  by  themselves — it  is  important  to 
glance  at  a  few  of  these  processes. 

Nature's  earliest  lessons  consist  in  teaching  her  pupils 
the  use  of  their  senses.  The  infant,  on  first  opening  his 
eyes,  probably  sees  nothing.  A  glare  of  light  stimulates 
the  organ  of  sight,  but  makes  no  distinct  impression  up- 


THE    INFANT    AS    A    STUDENT.  1*73 

on  it.  Ill  a  sliort  time,  liowever,  tlielio;lit  reflected  from 
the  various  objects  around  him  impinges  with  more  or 
less  force,  npou  the  eye  and  impresses  upon  it  the  im- 
ages of  tilings  without,  tlie  idea  of  the  image  is  duly 
transferi-ed  to  the  mind — and  thus  the  first  lesson  in  see- 
ing is  given. 

This  idea  of  form,  is,  howevei-,  complex  in  its  chnrac- 
ter,  which  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  objects  pre- 
sented to  his  attention  are  wholes  or  aggregates.  He 
learns  to  recognize  them  in  the  gross  before  he  knows 
them  in  detail.  He  has  no  choice  but  to  learn  them  in 
this  way.  No  child  ever  did  learn  them  in  any  other 
way.  Nature  presents  him  with  material  objects  and 
facts,  or  things  already  made  or  done.  She  does  not 
invite  him,  in  the  first  instance,  before  he  knows  in  a 
general  way  the  whole  object,  to  observe  the  constituent 
parts,  nor  the  manner  in  which  the  parts  are  related  to 
the  whole.  She  never,  in  condescension  to  his  weakness 
of  perception,  separates  the  aggregate  in  its  component 
elements — never  presents  these  elements  to  his  cousider- 
tion  one  by  one.  In  short,  she  ignores  altogether  in  her 
earliest  lessons  the  synthetical  method,  and  insists  on 
his  employing  only  the  analytical.  As  a  student  of  the 
analytical  method  he  proceeds  with  his  investigations, 
observing  resemblances  and  differences,  comparing,  con- 
trasting, and  to  some  extent  generalizing  (and  thus 
using  the  synthetical  process),  until  the  main  distinc- 
tions of  external  forms  are  comprehended,  and  their 
more  important  parts  recognized  as  distinct  entities,  to 
be  subsequently  regarded  themselves  as  wholes  and  de- 
composed into  their  constituent  parts.  Thus  the  child 
goes  on  with  Nature  as  his  teacher,  learning  to  read  for 


174  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION. 

himself  and  by  himself  the  volume  she  spreads  out  before 
him,  masterino;  first  some  of  its  sentences,  then  its  phras- 
es and  words,  and  lastly,  a  few  of  its  separate  letters. 

So  with  regard  to  the  physical  properties  of  objects  as 
distinguished  from  their  mechanical  divisions  or  parts. 
What  teacher  but  Nature  makes  the  child  an  embryo 
experimental  philosopher  ?  It  is  she  who  teaches  him  to 
teach  himself  the  difference  between  hard  and  soft,  bit- 
ter and  sweet,  hot  and  cold.  He  lays  hold  of  objects 
within  his  reach,  conveys  them  to  his  mouth,  knocks 
them  against  the  table  or  floor,  and  by  performing  such 
experiments  incessantly  gratifies,  instructs,  and  trains 
the  senses  of  sight,  touch,  taste,  smelling,  and  hearing. 
At  one  time  a  bright  and  most  attractive  object  is  close 
at  hand.  It  looks  beautiful  and  he  wonders  what  it  can 
be.  Nature  whispers,  "  Find  out  what  it  is.  Touch  it." 
He  puts  his  fingers  obediently  into  the  flame,  burns 
them,  and  thus  makes  an  experiment,  and  gains  at  the 
same  time  an  important  experience  in  the  art  of  living. 
He  does  not,  however,  feel  quite  certain  that  this  may 
not  be  a  special  case  of  bad  luck.  He  therefore  tries 
again,  and  of  course  with  the  same  result.  And  now, 
reflecting  maturely  on  what  has  taken  place,  he  begins 
to  assume  that  not  only  the  flame  already  tried,  but  all 
flames  will  burn  him — and  thus  dimly  perceiving  the 
relation  between  cause  and  effect,  he  is  already  track* 
ing,  though  slowly  and  feebly,  the  footsteps  of  the  induct- 
ive philosophy.  Even  earlier  in  life — as  soon,  indeed, 
as  he  was  born,  as  Professor  Tyndall  remarks — urged 
by  the  necessity  of  doing  something  for  his  living,  he 
improvised  a  suction-pump,  and  thus  showed  himself 
to  be,  even  from  his  birth,  a  student  of  practical  science. 


nature's  teaching.  175 

These  instances  will  serve  to  show  that  Nature's 
earliest  lessons  are  illustrations  of  the  theory,  that  teach- 
ing essentially  consists  in  aiding  tlie  pupil  to  teach  him- 
self. The  child's  method  of  learning  is  evidently  self- 
tuition  under  guidance,  and  nothing  else.  He  learns, 
i.  e.,  gathers  up,  acquu-es,  knows  a  vast  number  of  facts 
relating  to  things  about  him;  and,  morever,  by  imita- 
tion solely,  he  gains  a  practical  acquaintance  with  the 
arts  of  walking,  seeing,  hearing,  etc.  Who  has  taught 
him  ?  Nature — himself — practically  they  are  one.  In 
the  oi-dinary  sense,  indeed,  of  the  word  teaching,  Xatixre 
has  not  taught  liim  at  all.  She  has  given  him  no  rules, 
no  laws,  no  abstract  principles,  no  formulre,  no  grammar 
of  hearing,  seeing,  walking,  or  talking;  she  simply  gave 
the  faculty,  supplied  the  material,  and  the  occasion  for 
its  exercise,  and  her  pupil  learnt  to  do  bi/  doing.  This  is 
what  ISatm-e,  the  teacher,  the  guide,  the  directrix,  did. 
But  something  more  she  did,  or  rather  in  her  wisdom 
left  undone.  When  her  pupil,  through  carelessness  and 
heedlessness,  failed  to  see  what  was  before  him,  when 
he  blundered  in  his  walking  or  talking,  she  neither  in- 
terposed to  correct  his  blunders,  nor  indulged  in  out- 
cries and  objurgations  against  him.  She  bided  her  op- 
portunity. She  went  on  teaching,  he  went  on  learning, 
and  the  blunders  were  in  time  corrected  by  the  pupil 
himself.  Even  when  he  was  about  to  burn  his  fingers, 
it  was  no  part  of  her  plan  to  hinder  him  from  learning 
the  valuable  lessons  taught  by  the  ministry  of  pain. 
Perhaps  in  these  respects,  as  well  as  in  so  many  others, 
teachers  of  children  might  learn  something  from  the 
example  of  their  great  Archididascalos. 

But  it  will  be  objected  that  Nature's  wise,  authorita- 


176  THEORIES   OF   EDIJCATIOX. 

tive  teaching  can  be  no  guide  for  ns.  She  teaches  by 
the  law  of  exigency,  and  her  pupil  must  perforce  learn 
whether  he  will  or  not.  In  the  society  in  which  we 
live  there  is  no  such  imperative  claim,  and  the  teacher, 
Avho  appears  as  Nature's  deputy,  can  neither  wield  her 
authority  nor  adopt  her  methods.  In  reply  to  this  ob- 
jection it  may  be  urged  that  Society's  claims  upon  her 
members  are  scai'cely  less  imperative  than  Nature's,  and 
that  the  deputy  can,  and  ought  to,  act  out  his  superior's 
principles  of  administration. 

Suppose  then,  for  instance,  that  Society  requires  that 
a  child  should  learn  to  read.  In  this  case,  certainly, 
Nature  will  not  intervene  to  secure  that  special  instruc- 
tion, but  the  method  adopted  by  her  deputy  may  be, 
and  ought  to  be,  founded  on  hers.  Every  principle  of 
Nature's  teaching  is  violated  in  the  oi'dinary  plan  of 
commencing  with  the  alphabet.  Nature,  as  I  have  al- 
ready said  or  implied,  sets  no  alphabet  whatever  before 
her  pupil;  nor  is  there  in  the  teaching  of  Nature  any- 
thing that  even  suggests  such  a  notion  as  learning 
A,  B,  C.  Nature's  teaching,  it  cannot  be  too  fre- 
quently repeated,  is  at  first  analytical,  not  synthetical, 
and  the  essence  of  it  is  that  the  pupil  makes  the  analy- 
sis himself. 

Our  ordinary  teacher,  however,  in  defiance  of  Nature, 
commences  his  instruction  in  the  art  of  reading  with 
A,  B,  C,  pointing  out  each  letter,  and  at  the  same  time 
uttering  a  sound  which  the  child  is  expected  to  consider 
as  the  sound  always  to  be  associated  with  that  sign. 
At  length,  after  many  a  groan,  the  alphabet  is  learned 
perfectly  and  the  teacher  proceeds  to  the  combinations. 
He  points  to  a  word,  and  the  pupil  says,  letter  by  letter, 


THE    WORD    METHOD    IN    READING.  177 

bee-a-tee,  and  then,  naturally  enough,  comes  to  a  dead 
stop.  His  work  is  done.  Neither  he  nor  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  in  his  prime,  could  take  the  next  unexpected 
step  and  compound  these  elements  into  hat.  The  sphynx 
who  proposes  the  riddle  may  indeed  look  menacingly 
for  the  answer,  hut  by  no  possible  chance  can  she  get  it. 
The  teacher  then  comes  to  the  rescue,  utters  the  sound 
hat,  which  the  child  duly  repeats,  and  thus  the  second 
stage  in  reading  is  accomplished. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  only  rational  and  sensible 
feature  in  this  process  is  the  utterance  and  echo  of  the 
sound  hat  in  view  of  the  word  or  sign,  and  if  the  teacher 
had  begun  with  this,  and  not  confused  the  child  by  giv- 
ing him  the  notion  that  he  was  learning  a  sound,  when 
he  was  in  fact  learning  nothing  but  a  name,  Nature  would 
haveapprovedof  the  lesson,  as  analagous  to  those  given  by 
herself.  She  might  also  have  asked  the  teacher  to  notice 
that  the  child  learns  to  speak  by  hearing  and  using 
whole  words.  Nobody  addresses  him  as  hee-a-hee-wy,  nor 
does  he  say  em-a-em-em-a.  He,  in  fact,  deals  with  aggre- 
gates, compares  them  together,  exercises  the  analytical 
faculty  upon  them,  and  employs  the  constituent  ele- 
ments which  he  thus  obtains  in  ever  new  combinations. 
There  can  be  no  doubt,  then,  that  the  child  learns  to 
speak,  by  imitation,  analysis,  and  practice.  Why  not, 
then,  says  Nature,  let  him  learn  reading  in  the  same  way  ? 
Let  him  in  view  of  entire  words  echo  the  sound  of 
them  received  from  the  teacher;  let  him  learn  them  thor- 
oughly as  wholes;  let  him  by  analysis  separate  them  in- 
to their  syllables,  and  the  syllables  into  their  letters,  and 
it  will  be  found  that  the  phonic  faculty  of  the  compound 
leads  surely  and  easily  to  that  of  its  separate  parts.  The 

G 


l^S  THEOKIES    OF    EDrcATIOX. 

fact  of  our  ortliography  is  siugularly  anomalous  is  an  ar- 
gument for,  rather  than  against,  the  adoption  of  this 
plan  of  teaching  to  read. 

In  pursuing  this  only  natural  method  of  instruction 
we  notice  that  the  pupil  frequently  repeats  the  same 
process,  going  over  and  over  the  same  ground  until 
he  has  mastered  it,  and  as  in  learning  to  walk  he 
often  stumbled  before  he  walked  freely,  and  in  learning 
to  talk  often  blundered  and  stammered  before  he  used 
his  tongue  readily,  so  while  learning  to  read  in  Nature's 
school,  he  will  make  many  a  fruitless  attempt,  be  often 
puzzled,  often  for  awhile  miss  his  path,  yet  all  the  while 
he  is  correcting  his  errors  by  added  knowledge  and 
experience,  sharpening  his  faculties  by  practice,  teaching 
himself  by  his  own  active  efforts,  and  not  receiving 
passively  the  explanations  of  others;  deeply  interested 
too  in  discovering  for  himself  that  which  he  would  be 
even  disgusted  with  if  imposed  upon  by  dogmatic 
authority,  he  is  trained,  even  from  the  very  beginning, 
in  the  method  of  investigation.  I  cannot  but  lookxipon 
him  as  illustrating  faithfully  and  fairly  in  his  practice  the 
theory  that  learning  is  self-tuition  under  competent 
guidance,  and  that  teaching  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  super- 
intendence of  the  process. 

Did  time  permit  I  could  give  many  illustrations  of  the 
interest  excited,  and  the  efficiency  secured,  by  this 
method  of  teaching  reading.  For  example,  1  have  seen 
and  heard  children  earnestly  petitioning  to  be  allowed 
to  pursue  their  lessons  in  reading,  after  a  short  experi- 
ence of  it,  by  what  they  called  the  "  finding  out  plan." 
It  was  known  to  me  more  than  forty  years  ago,  as  a 
part  of  Jacotot's  once  renowned   "  Enseignement  Uni- 


LORD  BYROX'S  EXPERIENCE.  179 

versal,"  and  I  then  put  it  to  the  severest  test.  It  is  also 
substantially  contained  in  Mr.  Curwen's  "  Look  and  Say 
Method,"  in  the  little  book  entitled  "Reading  without 
Spelling,  or  the  Scholar's  Delight,"  and  in  articles  by 
Mr.  Dunning  and  Mr.  Baker,  of  Doncaster,  in  the 
Quarterly  Journal  of  Education  for  1 834.  A  natural  method, 
like  others,  requires  of  course  to  be  judiciously  directed, 
and  the  teacher's  especial  duty  is  in  this,  as  in  other 
methods,  to  maintain  the  interest  of  the  lesson,  and 
above  all,  to  get  the  pupil,  however  young  he  may  be, 
to  think  ;  especially  as,  according  to  the  principles  already 
laid  down,  it  is  rather  the  pupil  who  learm  than  the 
master  who  teaches.  As  a  case  in  point  I  quote  a  passage 
from  the  life  of  Lord  Byron.  Speaking  of  a  school  he 
was  in  when  five  years  of  age,  he  says,  "  I  learned  little 
there  except  to  repeat  by  rote  the  first  lesson  of  mono- 
syllables, '  God  made  man,  let  us  love  hira,  etc.,'  by 
hearing  it  often  repeated  without  acquiring  a  letter. 
Whenever  proof  was  made  of  my  progress  at  home,  I 
repented  these  words  with  the  most  rapid  fluency,  but 
on  turning  over  a  new  leaf,  I  continued  to  repeat  them, 
so  that  the  narrow  boundaries  of  my  first  year's  accom- 
plishments were  detected,  my  ears  boxed  (which  they 
did  not  deserve,  seeing  that  it  was  by  ear  only  that  I 
had  acquired  my  letters),  and  my  intellects  consigned 
to  a  new  preceptor."  This  case,  however,  proves  only 
that  Byron  had  not  been  directed  in  teaching  himself, 
and  that  he  was  not  a  pupil  of  the  analytical  method. 
His  mind  had  taken  no  cognizance  of  the  acquisitions 
which  he  had  mechanically  made. 

Another  instance,  much  more  to  the  point,  is  supplied 
in  a  passage  which  I  extracted  many  years  ago  from  a 


180  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION. 

Report  of  the  Gaelic  School  Society,  and  which  con- 
tains a  most  valuable  lesson  for  the  teachers  of  reading. 
"An  elderly  female  in  the  parish  of  Edderton  was  most 
anxious  to  I'ead  the  Scriptures  in  her  native  tongue. 
She  did  not  even  know  the  alphabet,  and  of  course  she 
began  with  the  letters.  Long  and  zealously  she  strove 
to  acquire  these,  and  finally  succeeded.  She  was  then 
put  into  the  syllable  class,  in  which  she  continued  some 
time,  but  made  so  little  progress  that,  with  a  breaking 
heart,  she  retired  from  the  school.  The  clergyman  of 
the  parish,  on  being  made  acquainted  with  these  cir- 
cumstances, advised  the  teacher  to  send  for  her  again, 
and  instead  of  trying  her  with  syllables,  to  which  she 
could  attach  no  meaning,  to  give  her  the  sixth  Psalm  at 
once.  This  plan  succeeded  to  admiration:  and  when  the 
school  was  examined  by  a  committee  of  presbytery,  she 
read  the  tnirty-seventh  Psalm  in  a  manner  that  aston- 
ished all  present."  Whether  this  important  discovery 
— for  it  was  nothing  less — was  made  practically  availa- 
ble in  the  teaching  of  the  parish  of  Edderton  I  do  not 
know;  but  I  sliould  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  the 
good  old  A,  B,  C,  and  the  cabalistical  b-a,  ba;  b-e,  be, 
— in  which  Dr.  Andrew  Bell  gravely  tells  us  "the  sound 
is  an  echo  to  the  sense!'''' — is  still  going  on  there  as  at 
the  beginning. 

I  have  detained  you  long  over  the  practical  illustra- 
tion contained  in  the  method  of  teaching  to  read,  be- 
cause it  really  is  a  complete  application  of  the  theory 
which  I  advocate,  and  involves  such  principles  as  these 
which  I  state  with  the  utmost  brevity  for  want  of  time: — 

1.  The  pupil  teaching  himself,  begins  with  tangible 
and  concrete  facts    which   he  can  comprehend, 


LIMITS    OF    TIIK    TEACHEr's    FUNCTION.  181 

not  with   abstract  principles  which   he   cannot. 

2.  He    employs   a  method — the  analytical — which 

lies  in  his  own  power,  not  the  synthetical,  which 
mainly  requires  application  ah  extra. 

3.  His  early  career  is  not  therefore  impeded  by  need- 

less precepts,  and  authoritative  dogmas. 

4.  He  learns  to  become  a  discoverer  and  explorer  on 

his  own  account,  and  not  merely  a  passive  recip- 
ient of  the  results  of  other  people's  discoveries. 

5.  He  takes  a  degree  of  pleasure  in  the  discoveries 

or  acquisitions  made  by  himself,  which  he  can- 
not take  in  those  made  by  others. 

6.  In  teaching  himself  he  proceeds — he  can  only  pro- 

ceed— in  projiortion  to  his  strength,  and  is  not 
perplexed  and  encumbered  by  explanations, 
which,  however  excellent  in  themselves,  may  not 
be  adapted — genei-ally  are  not  adapted — to  the 
actual  state  of  his  mind. 

7.  He  consequently  proceeds  from  the  known  to  the 

unknown. 

8.  The  ideas  that  he  thus  gains  will,  as  natural  se- 

quences of  those  already  gained  by  the  same 
method,  be  clear  and  precise'  as  far  as  they  go, 
and  his  knowledge  will  be  accurate,  though  of 
course  very  limited,  because  it  is  his  own. 

9.  By  teaching  himself,  and  relying  on  his  own  pow- 

ers in  a  special  case,  he  acquires  the  faculty  of 
teaching  himself  generally — a  faculty  the  value 
of  which  can  hardly  be  overrated. 
If  these  principles  are  involved  in  the  method  of  self- 
tuition  they  necessarily  define  the  measure  and  limit  of 
teacher's  function,  and  show  us  what  the  art  of  teaching 


182  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION, 

ought  to  be.  They  seem  also  to  render  it  probable  that 
mueh  that  goes  under  the  name  of  teaching  rather  hin- 
ders than  helps  the  self-teaching  of  the  pupil.  The  as- 
sumption of  the  pupil's  inability  to  learn  except  through 
the  manifold  explanations  of  the  teacher  is  inconsistent 
with  this  theory,  nor  less  so  is  the  universal  practice  of 
making  technical  definitions,  abstract  principles,  scientific 
rules,  etc.,  form  so  large  a  portion  of  the  pabulum  of 
the  youthful  mind.  The  superintending  teacher  by  no 
means  however,  despises  definitions,  princi))les  and  rules, 
but  he  introduces  them  when  the  pupil  is  prepared  for 
them,  and  then  he  gets  hira  to  frame  them  for  himself. 
The  self-teaching  student  has  no  power  to  anticipate  the 
time  when  these  deductions  from  facts — for  such  they  all 
ultimately  are — will, by  the  natural  course  of  mental  de- 
velopment, take  their  j^roper  place  in  the  course  of  in- 
struction, and  any  attempt  to  force  him  to  swallow  them 
merely  as  intellectual  boluses  prematui-ely  can  only  end 
in  derangement  of  the  digestive  organs.  His  mind  can 
digest,  or  at  least  begin  to  digest,  facts  which  he  sees 
for  himself,  but  not  definitions  and  rules  which  he  has 
had  no  share  in  making.  He  cannot,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  assume  the  conclusions  of  others  drawn  from  facts 
of  which  he  is  ignorant  as  his  conclusions,  and  he  is  not 
therefore  really  instructed  by  passively  receiving  them. 
Those  who  take  a  different  view  from  this  of  teaching 
sometimes  plead  that  inasmuch  as  rules  and  principles 
are  compendious  expressions  representing  many  facts,  the 
pupil  does  in  learning  them  economize  time  and  labor. 
Experience  does  not,  however,  support  this  view,  but  it 
is  rather  against  it.  The  elementary  puj)il  cannot,  if  he 
would,  comprehend  for  instance  the  metaphysical,  dls- 


NO  "new  education."  183 

tinctions  and  definitions  of  grammar.  They  are  utterly 
unsnited  for  his  stage  of  developenjent,  and  if  violently 
intruded  into  his  mind  they  cannot  be  assimilated  to 
its  substance,  but  must  remain  there  as  crude,  undigest- 
ed matter  until  the  system  is  prepared  fur  them.  When 
that  time  arrives,  he  will  welcome  these  compendious 
generalizations  of  facts  which  when  prematurely  offered 
he  rejected  with  disgust.  Stuffing  a  pupil  with  ready- 
made  rules  and  formulae  may  perhaps  make  an  adept  in 
cramming,  but  is  cramming  the  be-all  and  end-all  of 
education  ? 

But  I  must  furl  my  sails  and  maka  for  land.  The 
idea  which  I  have  endeavored  to  give  of  the  true  rela- 
tion of  the  pupil  to  the  teacher,  and  which  represents 
the  former  as  carrying  on  his  own  self-tuition- under  the 
wise  superintendence  of  the  latter,  is  of  course  not  new. 
Nothing  strictly  new  can  be  said  about  education.  The 
elements  of  it  may  easily  be  found  in  the  principles  and 
practice  of  Ascham,  Montaigne,  Ratich,  Milton,  Co- 
meuius,  Locke,  Rousseau,  Pestalozzi,  Jacotot,  and  Her- 
bert Spencer.  Those  who  are  interested  in  the  subject 
may  find  an  account  of  the  views  and  methods  of  these 
eminent  men  in  Mr.  Quick's  valuable  little  book  on  P^du- 
cational  Reformers.  All,  in  fact,  who  have  insisted  on 
the  great  importance  of  eliciting  the  pupil's  own  efforts 
and  not  superseding,  enfeebling  and  deadening  them  by 
too  much  telling  and  explaining — all,  too,  who  have 
urged  that  abstract  rules  and  principles  should,  in  teach- 
ing, follow,  not  precede,  the  examples  on  which  they  are 
founded,  have  virtually  adopted  the  theory.which  I  have 
endeavored  to  state  and  illustrate.  They  have,  in  sub- 
stance, admitted  that  the  teacher's  function  is  defined 


184  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION. 

by  a  true  conception  of  the  mental  operation  which  we 
call  learning,  and  that  that  operation  is  radically  and 
essentially  the  work  of  the  pupil,  and  cannot  be  j>er- 
formed  for  hira. 

If  I  have  succeeded  at  all  in  the  development  of  my 
theory,  it  must  be  obvious  that  a  pupil  thus  trained  must 
be  a  more  accurate  observer,  a  more  skilful  investigatoi", 
more  competent  to  detil  with  subjects  of  thought  in  an 
intelligent  way;  in  a  word,  a  more  awakened  thinker 
than  one  trained  in  accordance  with  the  opposit  e  theory. 
The  process  he  goes  through  naturally  tends  to  make 
him  such,  and  to  prepare  him  to  appreciate  and  adopt 
in  his  subsequent  career  the  methods  of  science.  It  is 
the  want  of  that  teaching  which  comes  from  himself 
that  makes  an  ordinary  pupil  the  slave  of  technicalities 
and  routine,  that  prevents  liira  from  grai)pling  with  a 
common  problem  of  arithmetic  or  algebra  unless  he  hap- 
pens to  remember  the  rule,  and  from  demonstrating  a 
geometrical  proposition  if  he  forgets  the  diagram; 
which,  even  though  he  may  be  a  scholar  of  Eton  or 
Harrow,  leaves  hira  destitute  of  power  to  deal  at  sight 
with  a  passage  of  an  easy  Greek  or  Latin  author.  In 
the  great  bulk  of  our  teaching,  with  of  course  many 
and  notable  exceptions,  the  native  powers  of  the  pupil 
are  not  made  the  most  of,  and  hence  his  knowledge, 
even  on  leaving  school,  is  too  generally  a  farrago  of 
facts  only  partially  hatched  into  principles,  mingled  in 
unseemly  jumble  with  rules  scarcely  at  all  understood, 
exceptions  claiming  equal  rank  with  the  rules,  defini- 
tions dislocated  from  the  objects  they  define,  and  tech- 
nicalities which  clog  rather  than  facilitate  the  operations 
of  the  mind. 


BETTER  SCHOOLS  FROM  BETTER  TEACHING.    185 

A  slight  exercise  of  our  memories,  and  a  slight  glance 
at  the  actual  ?tate  of  things  amongst  us,  will,  I  believe, 
witness  to  the  substantial  truth  of  this  statement.  If, 
however,  we  want  other  testimony,  we  may  find  it  in 
abundance  in  the  Reports  and  evidence  of  the  four 
Commissions  which  have  investigated  the  state  of  edu- 
cation amongst  us;  if  we  want  more  still,  we  may  be 
supplied — not,  1  am  sorry  to  say,  to  our  heart's  content, 
but  discontent — in  the  reports  of  intelligent  official  ob- 
servers from  abroad.  If  we  want  more  still,  let  us  read 
the  petition's  only  lately  presented  to  the  House  of  Com- 
mons from  the  highest  medical  authorities,  who  com- 
plain that  medical  education  is  rendered  abortive  and 
impossible  by  the  wholly  unsatisfactory  results  of  mid- 
dle-class teaching.  Does  it  aj^pear  unreasonable  to  sup- 
pose that  such  a  chorus  of  dispraise  and  dissatisfaction 
could  not  be  raised  unless  there  were  something  in  the 
methods  of  teaching  which  naturally  leads  to  the  results 
complained  of  ?  If  the  quality  of  the  teaching — I  am 
not  considering  the  quantity — is  not  responsible  for  the 
quality  of  its  results,  I  really  do  not  know  where  we  are 
to  find  the  cause,  and  failing  in  detecting  the  cause,  how 
are  we  to  hegin  even  our  search  for  the  remedy  ?  Theories 
of  teaching  which  distrust  the  pupil's  native  ability, 
which  in  one  way  or  other  repress,  instead  of  aiding,  the 
natural  development  of  his  mind,  which  surfeit  him  with 
technicalities,  which  impregnate  him  with  vague  in- 
fructuous  notions  that  are  never  brought  to  the  bii'th, 
that  cultivate  the  lowest  faculties  at  the  expense  of  the 
highest,  that  make  him  a  slave  of  the  Rule-of-Thumb 
instead  of  a  master  of  principles — are  these  theories, 
which  have  done  much  of  the  mischief,  to  be  still  relied 


1  86  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION. 

on  to  su[)])ly  llie  reform  we  need  ?  Or  shall  we  find,  at 
least,  some  of  the  uerms  of  futuie  life  in  the  other 
theory,  which  fiora  the  first  confides  in,  cherishes,  and 
encourages  the  native  powers  of  the  child;  which  take 
care  that  his  acquisitions,  however  small,  sliall  be  made 
by  himself,  and  secures  their  possession  by  repetition 
and  natural  association;  which  invests  his  career  with 
the  vivid  interest  which  belongs  to  that  of  a  discoverer 
and  explorer  of  unknown  lands;  wiiich,  in  short,  to 
adojjt  the  striking  words  of  Burke,  instead  of  serving 
up  to  him  barren  and  lifeless  truths,  leads  'him  to  the 
stock  on  which  they  grew;  which  sets  him  on  the  track 
of  invention,  and  directs  him  into  those  paths  in  which 
the  great  authorities  he  follows  made  their  own  discov- 
eries ?  Is  a  theory  which  involves  such  principles,  and 
leads  to  such  results,  worthy  the  consideration  of  those 
wlio  regard  education  as  pre-eminently  the  civilizing 
agent  of  the  world,  and  lament  that  England,  as  a  na- 
tion, is  so  little  fraught  with  its  spirit  ? 


THEORY  OF  TEACHIN&.-AHLYSIS. 


I.   The  Eelation  of  the  Taicher  to  the  Pupil. 

1.  The  teacher  that  communicates  ideas 165 

(a)  Has  a  mean  opinion  of  the  pupil's  powers 166 

3.  Tlie  teacher  that  guides  to  ideas ..166 

{a)  Pupils  competent  to  observe,  compare,  infer 166 

II.   Learning  is  Self-  Tuition. 

1.  Etymology  of  the  words  "learn  "and  "teach" 167 

2.  The  teacher  to  be  a  guide 170 

{a)  The  teacher  must  know  psychology.   .. 171 

{b)  He  has  quite  enough  to  do 171 

(c)  The  pupil's  independence  partial 171 

{d)  Methods  of  teaching  derived  from  methods  of 

learning ..-. .. 172 

3.  Self-tuition  the  only  acquirement  of  Itaowledge 172 

(«)  Nature's  process  of  teaching: 

a  First,  use  of  the  senses 173 

fj  Analj'sis  precedes  synthesis 173 

;'  The  child  an  experimental  philosopher 174 

d  The  child  learns  to  do  by  doing .    .    175 

E  He  corrects  his  own  blunders 175 

(5)  Society's  claims,   vs.  Nature's 176 

a  Learning  to  read 176 

y3  Lord  Byron's  experience... 179 

y  The  old  woman  of  Edderton 179 

(c)  Principles  illustrated. 

a  The  pupil  begins  with  facts 180 

/i  He  uses  analysis . .  180 

y  He  is  not  impeded  by  precepts 180 

d  He  learns  to  be  an  explorer 180 

E  He  takes  pleasure  in  his  discoveries _. 161 

?  He  proceeds  according  to  his  strength 181 

187 


188  THEORIES    OF    EDUCATION. 

7j  He  goes  from  the  known  to  the  unknown 181 

S  His  ideas  are  clear  so  far  as  they  go 181 

7    He  acquires  the  habit  of  self-teaching -.181 

{d)  Application  to  prevalent  methods 181 

a  Much  teaching  a  hindrance. 182 

f3  Principles  should  be  developed,  not  memorized -.182 

y^  No  economy  in  cramming ...182 

ni.   These  principles  accepted  by  all  great  teachers 183 

1.  Want  of  self  teaching  makes  one  a  slave  of  routine. 184 

2.  Reports  show  inefficiency  of  present  schools 184 

3.  The  remedy,  better  knowledge  of  our  work ...185 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  TRAINING 
OF  THE  TEACHER. 


In  the  first  place,  I  wish  to  make  a  few  remarks  on  the 
terra  "profession,"  as  applied  to  teaching.  It  cannot  be 
said,  strictly,  that  we  have  in  England,  at  this  moment, 
any  profession  of  teaching.  The  term  "  profession," 
when  properly,  that  is,  technically  employed,  connotes 
or  implies  "  learned;"  and  involves  the  idea  of  an  incor- 
porated union  of  persons  qualified  by  attainments  and  by 
a  scientific  training  for  a  particular  calling  in  life,  and 
duly  authorized  to  pursue  it.  It  is  in  this  sense  alone 
that  the  term  is  employed,  in  speaking  of  the  prof essions 
of  law,  medicine  and  theology.  As,  however,  in  the 
case  of  education — and  speaking  particularly  of  second- 
ary education — no  positive  attainments,  no  special  train- 
ing, no  authoritative  credentials  whatever  are  demanded 
as  professional  qualifications,  it  is  obvious  that  there  is, 
strictly  speaking,  no  profession  of  teaching  amongst  us, 
and  that  when  we  use  the  term  "profession"  in  this  ap- 
plication of  it,  we  use  it  in  a  vague,  inaccurate  and  un- 
technical  sense.  As  to  attainments  none  whatever  are 
required  of  the  person  who  *'  professes  "  to  teach.  The 
profound  ignoramus,  if  sufficiently  endowed  with  assur- 
ance, may  compete  tor  public  patronage  on  nearly  equal 
terms  with  the  most  cultivated  student  of  learning  and 
science,  and  may  in  many  cases  even  carry  off  the  prize; 
while  as  to  training,  the  teacher  who  has  severely  disci- 

189 


190  IMPORT AXCE  OF  TRAINING. 

plinecl  his  mind  by  tlie  study  of  the  theory  of  education, 
and  carefully  conformed  his  practice  to  it,  scarcely 
stands  a  better  chance  of  success  than  the  ignorant  pre- 
tender who  cannot  even  define  the  term  "education;  " 
who  has  no  conception  of  the  meaning  of  "training;  " 
and  whose  empirical  self-devised  methods  of  instruction 
constitute  the  sum  total  of  his  qualifications  for  the  office 
he  assumes. 

Lastly,  as  to  credentials,  both  classes  of  teachers,  the 
qualified  and  the  unqualified,  stand  on  precisely  the  same 
footing  before  the  public.  No  authoritative  exequatur  dis- 
tinguishes the  competent  from  the  incompetent  teacher. 
Both  jostle  each  other  in  the  strife  for  pre-eminence,  and 
the  public  look  on  all  the  while  with  indifference,  appar- 
ently unconscious  that  their  children's  dearest  interests 
are  involved  in  the  issue. 

It  is  obvious  then,  that  as  neither  knowledge,  trainings 
nor  credentials  are  required  of  the  teacher,  there  can  be 
no  "  profession  of  teaching."  The  assumption,  however, 
that  there  is  such  a  profession,  and  that  any  one  who 
pleases  may  claim  to  be  a  member  or  it,  has  proved  very 
injurious  to  the  interests  of  the  public.  Girls  left  un- 
provided for,  young  widows  left  in  a  similar  predicament, 
and  many  others  suddenly  plunged  into  difficulties  and 
obliged  to  cast  about  for  a  livelihood,  often  can  think  of 
no  other  employment  than  that  of  teaching,  which,  as  be- 
ing in  common  parlance  "  professional,"  is  therefore  "gen- 
teel;" and  accordingly,  without  a  single  qualification,  of- 
ten with  the  disqualification  that  they  have  nearly  all 
their  previous  lives  regarded  teachers  and  teaching  with 
contempt,  declare  themselves  before  the  world  ready  to 
te^qh.     The    declaration,  if  it   means  anything,  means 


TEACmNG    ONLY    A   SEMI-PIBOFES^SION.  191 

that  they  profess  themselves  ready  to  imclertake  the 
practice  of  an  art  which,  beyond  most  others,  requires 
peculiar  knowledge,  experience,  culture,  and  tact.  It 
means  further,  that  they  ai'e  prepared  to  watch  over  the 
development  of  a  child's  growing  mind,  to  furnish  it 
with  suitable  mental  food  at  the  proper  time;  to  see  that 
the  food  is  thoroughly  digested;  to  stimulate  it  to  exer- 
cise its  faculties  in  the  right  direction;  to  curb  its  aberra- 
tions; to  elicit  the  consciousness  of  independent  power  ; 
to  form,  in  short,  habits  of  thinking  for  life-long  use. 
All  this,  and  very  much  more,  is  really  involved  in  the 
conception  we  ought  to  form  of  a  teacher's  functions; 
and  yet  we  see  every  day  persons  who  have  not  even  a 
conception  of  this  conception  :  persons  destitute  of  all 
knowledge  of  the  subjects  they  profess  to  teach,  of  the 
nature  of  the  mind  which  is  to  be  taught,  of  the  practical 
art  itself,  of  the  principles  of  education  which  underlie  the 
art,  and  of  the  experience  of  the  most  eminent  instructors, 
blindly  and  rashly  forcing  themselves  before  the  world 
as  teachers.  Such  persons  seem  not  to  be  aware  that  if 
with  similar  qualifications  they  were  to  undertake  to 
practice  the  arts  of  medicine,  law,  architecture,  engi- 
neering, or  music,  they  would  be  laughed  at  every  where. 
Yet  these  very  persons,  who  would  be  instinctively  con- 
scious of  their  incompetency,  without  knowledge  or  train- 
ing, to  perform  a  surgical  operation,  to  steer  a  vessel,  to 
build  a  house,  or  to  guide  a  locomotive,  are  ready,  at  a 
moment's  warning,  to  perform  any  number  of  operations 
on  a  child's  mind,  and  to  undertake  the  direction  of  its 
mental  or  raornl  forces — a  task,  considering  the  delicacy 
of  the  machinery  with  which  they  have  to  deal,  more  dif- 
ficult in  many  respects  than  any  other  that  can  be  named. 


192  IMPOKTANCE    OF   TKAINING. 

In  maintaining,  however,  generally  that  the  professor 
of  an  art  should  understand  its  principles,  and  that  he 
cannot  understand  them  without  study  and  training,  I 
do  not  mean  to  assert  that  there  may  not  be  found 
among  those  who  feel  themselves  suddenly  called  upon 
to  act  as  teachers,  especially  among  women,  many,  who 
without  obvious  preliminary  training,  are  really  already 
far  advanced  in  actual  training  for  the  task  they  assume. 
In  these  cases,  superior  mental  culture,  acute  insight  into 
character,  ready  tact  and  earnest  sympathy  constitute, 
pro  ta?ito,  a  real  preparation  for  the  profession;  and  sup- 
ply, to  a  considerable  extent,  the  want  of  technical  train- 
ing. To  such  persons  it  not  unfrequently  happens  that 
a  matiired  consciousness  of  the  importance  of  the  task 
they  have  undertaken,  and  actual  contact  with  the  work 
itself,  rapidly  suggest  what  is  needed  to  supplement 
their  inexperience.  Such  cases,  however,  as  being  rare 
and  exceptional,  are  not  to  be  relied  on  as  examples. 
Even  in  them,  moreover,  a  thoughtful  study  of  the  Sci- 
ence of  Education,  and  of  the  correlated  Art,  would 
guide  the  presumed  faculty  to  better  results  than  can  be 
gained  without  it. 

We  can  have  little  hesitation  then  in  asserting  that 
the  pretension  to  be  able  to  teach  without  knowing  even 
what  teaching  means;  without  mastering  its  processes 
and  methods  as  an  art;  without  gaining  some  acquaint- 
ance with  its  doctrines  as  a  science;  without  studying 
what  has  been  said  and  done  by  its  most  eminent  prac- 
titioners, is  an  unwarrantable  pretension  which  is  so  near 
akin  to  empiricism  and  quackery,*  that  it  is  difficult  to 
make  the  distinction. 

♦••Empiric;  one  of  a  sect  of  aiicieiit  pliysiciaus,  who  practised  from 


PRIMARY   TEACHING.  193 

There  are,  however,  two  or  three  fallacious  arguments 
sometimes  urged  against  the  preliminary  training  of  the 
teacher  which  it  is  important  briefly  to  discuss. 

The  first  is,  that  "granting  the  need  of  such  training 
for  teachers  of  advanced  subjects,  it  is  unnecessary  for 
the  teaching  of  elementary  su})jects.  Anybody  can 
teach  a  child  to  read,  write,  and  cipher."  This  is,  no 
doubt,  true,  if  teaching  means  nothing  more  than  me- 
chanical drill  and  cram;  but  if  teaching  is  an  art  and 
requires  to  be  artistically  conducted,  it  is  not  true.  A 
teacher  is  one  who,  having  carefully  studied  the  nature 
of  the  mind,  and  learned  by  reading  and  practice,  some 
of  the  means  by  which  that  nature  may  be  influenced, 
applies  the  resources  of  his  art  to  the  child-nature  before 
him.  Knowing  that  in  this  nature  there  are  forces, 
moral  and  intellectual,  on  the  development  of  which  the 
child's  well-being  depends,  he  draws  them  forth  by 
repeated  acts,  exercises  them  in  order  to  strengthen 
them,  trains  them  into  faculty,  and  contiimally  aims  at 
making  all  that  he  does,  all  that  he  gets  his  pupils  to 
do,  minister  to  the  consciousness  of  growth  and  power 
in  the  child's  mind.  If  this  is  a  correct  description  of 
the  teacher's  function,  it  is  obvious  that  it  applies  to 
every  department  of  the  teacher's  work;  as  much  to  the 
teaching  of  reading  and  arithmetic  as  to  that  of  Greek 
plays,  or  of  Differential  Calculus.  The  function  does 
not  change  with  the  subject.  But  I  go  further,  and 
maintain  that  the  beginning  of  the  process  ol"  education 
is  even  more  important  in  some  respects  than  the  later 
stages.      //  w'/y  a  que  le  premier  pas  qui  coute.     The  teacher 

experience,  not  from  theory."— '•  Quack;  a  boastiul  pretender  to  arts  lie 
does  not  understand." 


194  IMPORTANCE    OF   TRAINING. 

who  takes  in  hand  the  instruction  and  diix'ction  of  a 
mind  which  has  neverHbeen  taught  before,  coraniences  a 
series  of  processes,  which  by  our  theory  should  have  a  def- 
inite end  in  view — and  tliat  end  is  to  induce  in  the  child's 
mind  the  consciousness  of  power.  Power  is,  of  course, 
a  relative  term,  but  it  is  not  inapplicable  to  the  case  be- 
fore us.  The  teacher,  even  of  reading,  who  first  directs 
the  child's  own  observation  on  the  facts  in  view — the 
combination  of  tlie  letters  in  separate  words  or  syllables 
— gets  him  to  compare  these  combinations  together,  and 
notice  in  what  respect  they  differ  or  agree,  to  state  him- 
self the  difference  of  agreement — to  analyze  each  new 
compound,  into  its  known  and  unknown  elements,  ap- 
plying the  known,  as  far  as  possible,  to  interpret  the 
unknown — to  refer  each  fresh  acquisition  to  that  first 
made,  to  find  out  for  himself  everytliing  which  can  be 
found  ont  through  observation,  inference  and  reflection 
— to  look  for  no  help,  except  in  matters  (such  as  the 
sounds)  wiiich  are  purely  conventional — to  teach  him- 
self to  read,  in  short,  by  the  exercise  of  his  own  mind — 
such  a  teacher,  it  is  contended,  while  getting  the  child 
to  learn  how  to  read,  is  in  fact,  doing  much  more  than 
this — he  is  teaching  the  child  how  to  use  his  mind — how 
to  observe,  investigate,  think  *  It  will  probably  be 
granted  that  a  process  of  this  kind — if  practicable — 
would  be  a  valuable  initiation  for  the  child  in  the  art  of 
learning  gener^dly,  and  that  it  would  necessarily  be 
attended  by  what  I  have  described  as  a  conciousness  of 
power.     But,  moreover, — which  is  also  very  important — 


*  See  this  process  fully  described  in  the  Author's  third  lecture  "On 
the  Science  and  Art  of  Education,"  published  by  the  College  of  Precep- 
tors, p.  63. 


THE    BEST   TEACHING    NEEDED    FIRST.  195 

it  would  be  attended  by  a  consciousness  of  pleasure. 
Even  the  youngest  child  is  sensible  of  the  charm  of  do- 
ing things  himself — of  finding  out  things  for  himself ; 
and  it  is  of  cardinal  impoi'tance  in  elementary  instruc- 
tion to  Iny  the  grounds  for  the  association  of  pleasure 
with  mental  activity.  It  would  not  be  difficult,  but  it 
is  unnecessary,  to  contrast  such  a  method  as  this,  which 
awakens  all  the  powers  of  the  child's  mind,  keeps  them 
in  vivid  and  pleasurable  exercise,  and  forms  good  men- 
tal habits,  with  that  too  often  pursued,  which  deadens 
the  faculties,  induces  idle  hal)its,  distaste  for  learning, 
and  incapacity  for  mental  exertion. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  "any  teacher"  cannot  teach  even 
reading,  so  as  to  make  it  a  mental  exercise,  and,  conse- 
quently, a  pai't,  of  real  education — in  other  words,  so  as 
"to  make  all  that  he  does,  and  all  he  gets  his  pupil  to 
do,  minister  to  the  consciousness  of  growth  and  power 
in  the  child's  mind."  So  far  then  from  agreeing  with 
the  proposition  in  question,  I  believe  that  the  early 
development  of  a  child's  mind  is  a  woik  that  can  only 
effectually  be  performed  by  an  accomplished  teacher; 
such  a  one  as  T  have  already  described.  In  some  of  the 
best  German  elementary  schools  men  of  literary  distinc- 
tion. Doctors  in  Philosophy,  are  employed  in  teaching 
children  how  to  read,  and  in  the  highly  organized 
Jesuit  Schools,  it  was  a  regulation  that  only  those 
teachers  who  had  been  specially  successful  in  the  higher 
classes  should  be  entrusted  with  the  care  of  the  lowest. 

There  is,  moreover,  another  consideration  which  de- 
serves to  be  kept  in  view  in  discussing  the  competency 
(»f  "any  teacher"  to  take  charge  of  a  child  who  is 
beginning   to    learn.     Most   young  untrained  teachei's 


196  IMPORTANCE    OF   TRAINING. 

fancy  when  they  give  their  first  lesson  to  a  child  who 
has  not  been  taught  before,  that  they  are  commencing 
its  education.  A  moment's  reflection  will  show  that 
this  is  not  the  case.  They  may  indeed  be  commencing 
its  formal  education,  but  they  forget  that  it  has  been 
long  a  pupil  of  that  gi'eat  School,  of  which  Nature  is 
the  mistress,  and  that  their  proper  function  is  to  continue 
the  education  which  is  already  far  advanced.  In  that 
School,  observation  and  experiment,  acting  as  superin- 
tendents of  instruction,  through  the  agency  of  the  child's 
own  senses,  have  taught  it  all  it  knows  at  the  time 
when  natural  is  superseded,  or  rather  supplemented  by 
formal  education.  Can  it  then  be  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence whether  or  not  the  teacher  understands  the  pro- 
cesses, and  enters  into  the  spirit  of  the  teaching  carried 
on  at  that  former  School;  and  is  it  not  certain  that  his 
want  of  knowledge  on  these  j)oints  will  prove  very  inju- 
rious to  the  young  learner  ?  The  teacher  who  has  this 
knowledge  will  bring  it  into  active  exercise  in  every 
lesson  that  he  gives,  and,  as  I  have  shown  in  the  case  of 
teaching  to  read,  will  make  it  instrumental  in  the  devel- 
opment of  all  the  intellectual  faculties  of  the  child.  He 
knows  that  his  method  is  sound,  because  it  is  based  on 
Nature;  and  he  knows,  moreover,  that  it  is  better  than 
Nature's,  because  it  supersedes  desultory  and  fortuitous 
action  by  that  which  is  organized  with  a  view  to  a  defi- 
nite end.  The  teacher  who  knows  nothing  of  Nature's 
method,  and  fails,  therefore,  to  appreciate  its  spirit,  de- 
vises at  haphazanl  a  method  of  his  own  which  too 
generally  has  nothing  in  common  with  it,  and  succeeds 
in  effectually  quenching  the  child's  own  active  energies; 
in  making  him  a  passive  recipient  of  knowledge,  which 


NATURES   TEACHING    RECOGNIZED.  197 

he  has  had  no  share  in  gaining;  and  in  finally  converting 
him  into  a  mere  unintellectual  machine.  Untrained 
teachers,  especially  those  who,  as  the  phrase  is,  "com- 
mence" the  education  of  children,  are,  as  yet,  little 
aware  how  much  of  the  dulness,  stupidity,  and  distaste 
for  learning  which  they  complain  of  in  their  pupils,  is 
of  their  own  creation.  The  upshot  then  of  this  discus- 
sion is,  not  that  "  any  teacher,"  but  only  those  teachers 
who  are  trained  in  the  art  of  teaching  can  be  safely 
entrusted  with  the  education  of  the  child's  earliest 
efforts  i7)  the  career  of  instruction. 

Another  fallacy,  which  it  is  important  to  expose,  is 
involved  in  the  assumption,  not  unfrequently  met  with, 
that  a  man's  "choosing  to  fancy  that  he  has  the  ability 
to  teach,  is  a  sufticient  warrant  for  his  doing  so,"  leav- 
ing, it  is  added,  "the  public  to  judge  whether  or  not  he 
is  fit  for  his  profession."  Ridiculous  as  this  proposition 
may  appear,  I  have  heard  it  gravely  argued  for  and 
approved  in  a  soiiference  of  teachers,  many  of  whom  no 
doubt,  hud  good  grounds  of  their  own  for  their  adher- 
ence to  it.  Simply  stated,  it  is  the  theory  of  free  trade 
in  education.  Every  one  is  to  be  at  liberty  to  offer  his 
wares,  and  it  is  the  buyer's  business  to  take  care  that 
he  is  not  cheated  in  the  bargain.  It  is  unnecessary  for 
my  present  purpose  to  say  more  on  the  general  proposi- 
tion than  this — that  the  state  of  the  market  and  the 
frequent  inferiority  of  the  wares  invalidate  the  assump- 
tion of  the  competency  of  the  buyer  to  form  a  correct 
estimate  of  the  value  of  the  article  he  buys,  and,  more- 
over, that  an  immense  quantity  of  mischief  may  be,  and 
actually  is  done  to  the  parties  most  concerned,  the 
children  of  the  buyers,  while  the  hazardous  experiment 


198  IMPORTANCE    OF   TRAINING. 

is  going  on.  As  to  the  minor  proposition,  the  man's 
"  choosing  to  fancy  that  he  has  the  ability  "  to  teach  is 
a  sufficient  warrant  for  his  doing  so,  it  is  obviously  in 
direct  opposition  to  the  argument  1  am  maintaining.  It 
cannot  for  a  moment  be  admitted  that  a  man's  "  choos- 
ing to  fancy  that  he  has  the  ability  "  to  discharge 
a  function  constitutes  a  sufficient  warrant  for  the  in- 
dulgence of  his  fancy,  especially  in  a  field  of  action 
where  the  dearest  interests  of  society  are  at  stake.  We 
do  not  allow  a  man  "  who  chooses  to  fancy  that  he  has 
the  ability  "  to  practise  surgery,  to  operate  on  our  limbs 
at  his  pleasure,  and  only  after  scores  of  disastrous  ex- 
periments, decide  whether  he  is  "fit  to  follow^  the  pro- 
fession "  of  a  surgeon.  Nor  do  we  allow  a  man  who 
may  "choose  to  fancy  that  he  has  the  ability"  to  take 
the  command  of  a  man-of-war,  to  undertake  such  a 
charge  on  the  mere  assurance  that  we  may  safely  trust 
to  his  "inward  impulse."  And  if  we  require  the  strict- 
est guarantees  of  competency,  where  our  lives  and 
property  are  risked,  shall  we  be  less  anxious  to  secure 
them  when  the  mental  and  moral  lives  of  our  children — 
the  children  of  our  commonwealth — are  endangered  ?  I 
repudiate  then  entirely  this  doctrine  of  an  "inward  im- 
pulse," which  is  to  supersede  the  orderly  training  of  the 
teacher  in  the  art  of  teaching.  It  has  been  tried  long 
enough,  and  has  been  found  utterly  wanting.  Fallacies, 
however,  are  often  singularly  tenacious  of  life,  and  w^e 
are  not  therefore  surprised  at  Mr.  Meiklejohn's  asser- 
tion, that  in  more  than  50  per  cent,  of  the  letters  which 
he  examined,  the  special  qualification  put  forw^ard  by 
the  candidates  was  their  "  feeling  "  that  they  could  per- 
form the  duties  of  the  office  in  question  to  their  own  satis- 


THE    "inward    impulse   '   THEORY.  199 

faction.  (  ! )  This  is  obviously  only  anotiier  specimen, 
though  certainly  a  remarkable  one,  of  the  "inward  im- 
pulse "  theory. 

The  third  fallacy  I  propose  to  deal  with  is  couched  in 
the  common  assumption  that  "any  one  who  knows  a 
subject  can  teach  it."  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
teacher  should  have  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject he  professes  to  teach,  and  especially  for  this,  if  for 
no  other  reason — that  as  his  proper  function  is  to  guide 
the  process  by  which  his  pupil  is  to  learn,  it  will  be  of 
the  greatest  advantage  to  him  as  a  guide  to  have  gone 
himself  through  the  process  of  learning.  But,  then,  it 
is  very  possible  that  although  his  experience  has  been 
real  and  personal,  it  may  not  have  been  conscious— that 
is,  that  he  may  have  been  too  much  absorbed  in  the 
l^rocess  itself  to  take  account  of  the  natural  laws  of  its 
operation.  This  conscious  knowledge  of  the  method  by 
which  the  mind  gains  ideas  is,  in  fact,  a  branch  of  Psy- 
chology, and  he  may  not  have  studied  that  science. 
Nor  was  it  necessary  for  his  purpose,  as  a  learner,  that 
he  should  study  it.  But  the  conditions  are  quite  altered 
when  he  becomes  a  teacher.  He  now  assumes  the  direc- 
tion of  a  process  which  is  essentially  not  his  but  the 
learner's;  for  it  is  obvious  that  he  can  no  more  think  for 
the  pupil  than  he  can  eat  or  sleep  for  him.  His  efficient 
direction,  then,  will  mainly  depend  on  his  thoughtful 
conscious  knowledge  of  all  the  conditions  of  the  prob- 
lem which  he  has  to  solve.  That  problem  consists  in 
getting  his  pupil  to  learn,  and  it  is  evident  that  he  may 
know  his  subject,  without  knowing  the  best  means  of 
making  his  pupil  know  it  too,  which  is  the  assumed  end 
of  all  his  teaching:  in  other  words,  he  may  be  an  adept 


200  IMPORTANCE    OP   TRAINING. 

in  his  subject,  but  a  novice  in  the  art  of  teaching  it. 
Natural  tact  and  insight  ujay,  in  many  cases,  rapidly 
suggest  the  faculty  that  is  needed;  but  the  position  still 
remains  unafiFected  that  knowing  a  subject  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  knowing  how  to  teach  it.  This 
conclusion  is  indeed  involved  in  the  very  conception  of 
an  art  of  teaching,  an  art  which  has  principles,  laws,  and 
processes  peculiar  to  itself. 

But,  again,  a  man  profoundly  acquainted  with  a  sub- 
ject may  be  unapt  to  teach  it  by  reason  of  the  very 
height  and  extent  of  his  knowledge.  His  mind  habitu- 
ally dwells  among  the  mountains,  and  he  has  therefore 
small  sympathy  with  the  toilsome  plodders  on  the  plains 
below.  It  is  so  long  since  he  was  a  learner  himself  that 
he  forgets  the  difficulties  and  perplexities  which  once 
obstructed  his  path,  and  which  are  so  painfully  felt  by 
those  who  are  still  in  the  condition  in  which  he  once  was 
himself.  It  is  a  hard  task,  therefore,  to  him  to  conde- 
scend to  their  condition,  to  place  himself  alongside  of 
them,  and  to  force  a  sympathy  which  he  cannot  nat- 
urally feel  with  their  trials  and  experience.  The  teacher, 
in  this  case,  even  less  than  in  the  other,  is  not  likely  to 
conceive  justly  of  all  that  is  involved  in  the  art  of 
teaching,  or  to  give  himself  the  trouble  of  acquiring  it. 
Be  this,  however,  as  ii  may,  both  illustrations  of  the 
case  show  that  it  is  a  fallacy  to  assert  that  there  is  any 
necessary  connection  between  knowing  a  subject,  and 
knowing  how  to  teach  it. 

Having  now  shown  that  the  present  state  of  public 
opinion  in.  England,  which  permits  any  one  who  pleases 
to  *'set  up  "  as  a  teacher  without  regard  to  qualifications 
is  inconsistent  with  the  notion  that  teaching  is  an  art  for 


CRAMMING   DEFINED.  201 

the  exercise  of  which  preliminary  training  is  necessary, 
and  disposed  of  those  prevalent  fallacies  which  are,  to  a 
great  extent,  constitnents  of  that  public  opinion,  I  pro- 
ceed to  give  some  illustrations  of  teaching  as  it  is  in 
contrast  with  teaching  as  it  should  be.  The  fundamen- 
tal proposition,  to  which  all  that  I  have  to  say  on  the 
point  in  question  must  be  referred,  is  this — that  teach- 
ing, in  the  proper  sense  of  the  terra,  is  a  branch  of  edu- 
cation, and  that  education  is  the  development  and  train- 
ing of  the  faculties  with  a  view  to  create  in  the  pupil's 
mind  a  consciousness  of  power.  Every  process  em- 
ployed in  what  is  called  teaching  that  will  not  bear  this 
test  is,  more  or  less,  of  the  essence  of  cramming,  and 
cramming  is  a  direct  interference  with,  and  antagonistic 
to,  the  true  end  of  education.  Cramming  may  be  defined 
for  our  present  purpose  as  the  didactic  imposition  on  the 
child's  mind  of  ready-made  results,  of  results  gained  by 
the  thought  of  other  people,  through  processes  in  which 
his  mind  has  not  been  called  upon  to  take  a  part.  During 
this  performance  the  mind  of  the  pupil  is  for  the  most 
part  a  passive  recipient  of  the  matter  forced  into  it,  and 
the  only  faculty  actively  employed  is  memory.  The  re- 
sult is  that  memory  instead  of  being  occupied  in  its 
proper  function  of  retaining  the  imp7-ession  left  on  the 
mind  by  its  own  active  operations,  and  being  therefore 
subordinate  and  subsequent  to  those  operations,  is  forced 
into  a  position  to  which  it  has  no  natural  right,  and 
made  to  precede,  instead  of  waiting  on,  the  mind's  ac- 
tion. Thus  the  true  sequence  of  causes  and  consequenc- 
es is  disturbed,  and  memory  becomes  a  principal  agent 
in  instruction.  If  we  further  reflect  that  ideas  gained 
by  the  direct  action  of  the  mind  naturally  find  their 


202  IMPORTANCE    OF   TRAINING. 

proper  place  among  tlie  other  ideas  already  existing 
thereby  the  law  of  association,  while  th-ose  arbitrarily 
forced  into  it  do  so  only  by  accident — for  the  mind  re- 
ceives only  that  which  it  is  already  ])repared  to  receive 
— we  see  tliat  cramming,  which  takes  no  account  of  pre- 
paredness, is  absolutely  opposed  to  development,  that  is 
to  education  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  Cramming, 
therefore,  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  art  of  teach- 
ing, and  the  great  didactic  truth  is  established  that  it  is 
the  manner  or  method  rather  than  the  thing  taught,  that 
constitutes  the  real  value  of  the  teaching. 

Mr.  D'Arcy  Thomson,  in  his  interesting  book  entitled 
"  Wayside  Thoughts,"  referring  to  the  usual  process  of 
cramming  in  education,  compares  it  to  the  deglutition  by 
the  boa  constrictor  of  a  whole  goat  at  a  meal,  but  he  re- 
marks that  while  the  boa  by  degrees  absorbs  the  animal 
into  his  system,  the  human  boa  often  goes  al)out  all  his 
life  with  the  undigested  goat  in  his  stomach  !  There 
may  be  some  extravagance  in  this  whimsical  illustration, 
but  it  involves  after  all,  a  very  serious  truth.  How 
many  men  and  women  are  there  who,  if  they  do  not  car- 
ry the  entire  goat  with  them  through  life,  retain  in  an 
undigested  condition  huge  fragments  of  it,  which  press 
as  a  dead  weight  on  the  system — a  source  of  torpidity 
and  uneasiness,  instead  of  becoming  through  proper  as- 
similation a  means  of  energy  and  power.  The  true  edu- 
cator, who  is  at  the  same  time  a  genuine  artist,  proceeds 
to  his  work  on  principles  diametrically  opposed  to  those 
involved  in  cramming.  In  the  first  place  he  endeavors 
to  form  a  just  conception  of  the  nature,  aims,  and  ends 
of  education,  as  of  a  theory  which  is  to  govern  his  pro- 
fessional action.     According  to  this  conception  "educa- 


METHOD  OF  THE  TRUE  TEACHER.         203 

tion  is  tlie  training  carried  on  consciously  and  continu- 
ously by  the  educator  with  the  view  of  converting  de- 
sultory and  accidental  force  into  organized  action,  and 
of  ultimately  making  the  child  operated  on  by  it  a 
healthy,  intelligent,  moral,  and  religious  man."  Con- 
fining himself  to  intellectual  training,  he  sees  that  this 
must  be  accomplished  througii  instruction,  which  is 
"  the  orderly  placing  of  knowledge  in  the  mind  with  a 
definite  object;  the  mere  aggregation  of  incoherent  ideas, 
gained  by  desultory  and  unconnected  mental  acts  being 
no  more  instruction  than  heaping  bricks  and  stone  to- 
gether is  building  a  house."*  These  conceptions  of  the 
nature  and  aim  of  education,  and  of  its  proper  relation 
to  instruction,  suggest  to  him  the  consideration  of  the 
means  to  be  employed.  These  means  to  be  effectual 
must  have  an  exact  scientific  relation  to  the  nature  of 
the  machinery  that  is  to  be  set  in  motion;  a  relation 
which  can  only  be  understood  by  a  careful  study  of  the 
machinery  itself.  If  it  is  a  sort  of  machinery  which 
manifests  its  energies  in  acts  of  observation,  perception,  re- 
flection, and  remembering,  and  depends  for  its  efficacy  upon 
attention,  he  must  study  these  phenomena  subjectively  in 
relation' to  his  own  conscious  experience,  and  objectively 
as  exhibited  in  the  experience  of  others.  Regarding,  fur- 
ther, this  plexus  of  energies  as  connected  with  a  base  to 
which  we  give  the  name  of  mind,  he  must  proceed  to 
study  the  nature  of  the  mind  in  general,  and  especially 
note  the  manner  in  which  it  acts  in  the  acquisition  of 
ideas.  This  study  will  bring  him  into  acquaintance  with 
certain  principles  or  laws  which  are  to  guide  and  control 
his  future  action.  The  knowledge  thus  gained  will  con- 
*See  the  Author's  "  Lectures  on  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education." 


204  IMPORTANCE    OF    TRAINI>;rT. 

stitute  liis  iuitiatiou  into  the  Science  and  Art  of  Educa- 
tion. 

The  Science  or  Theory  of  Education  then  is  seen  to 
consist  in  a  knowledge  of  those  principles  of  Psychol- 
ogy, which  account  for  the  processes  by  which  the  mind 
gains  knowledge.  It  therefore  serves  as  a  test,  by 
which  the  Art  or  Pi-actice  of  Education  may  be  tried. 
All  practices  which  are  not  in  accordance  with  the 
natural  action  of  the  mind  in  acquiring  knowledge  for 
itself  are  condemned  by  the  theory  of  Education,  and  in 
this  predicament  is  cramming,  which  consists  in  forcing 
into  the  mind  of  the  learner  the  products  of  other  peo- 
ple's thought.  Such  products  are  formulae,  rules,  general 
abstract  propositions,  definitions,  classifications,  tech- 
nical terms,  common  words  even,  when  they  are  not  the 
signs  of  ideas  gained  at  first-hand  by  his  own  observa- 
tion and  perception.  The  Science  of  Education  recog 
nizes  all  these  kinds  of  knowledge  as  necessary  to  the 
formation  of  the  mind;  hut  relegates  them  to  their 
proper  place  in  the  course  of  instruction,  and  determines 
that  that  place  is  subsequent  not  antecedent  to  the 
action  of  the  learner's  mind  on  the  facts  which  serve  as 
their  groundwork.  Facts,  then,  things,  material  ob- 
jects, natural  phenomena;  physical  facts,  facts  of  lan- 
guage, facts  of  nature,  are  the  true,  the  all-sufficient 
pabulum  for  the  youthful  mind,  and  the  careful  study 
and  investigation  of  them  at  first-hand,  through  his  own 
observation  and  experiment  are  to  constitute  his  earliest 
initiation  in  the  art  of  learning.  After  this  initiatory 
practice,  which  involves  analysis  and  disintegration, 
come,  as  the  natural  sequence,  the  processes  of  recon- 
struction and  classification  of  the  elements   obtained, 


METHOD  01*  THE  TRUE  TEACHER.         2 05 

induction,  framing  of  definitions,  building  up  of  rules, 
generalization  of  particulars,  construction  of  formulae, 
application  of  technical  terras,  in  all  which  processes  the 
art  of  the  teacher  as  a  director  of  the  learner's  intellect- 
ual efforts  is  manifestly  called  into  exercise;  and  the 
need  of  his  own  experimental  knowledge  of  the  pro- 
cesses he  has  to  direct  is  too  obvious  to  require  to  be 
insisted  on. 

The  comprehensive  principle  here  enunciated,  which 
regards  even  the  learning  by  rote  of  the  multiplication 
table  and  Latin  declensions,  antecedently  to  some  pre- 
liminary dealing  with  the  facts  of  Latin  and  the  facts  of 
number,  as  of  the  essence  of  cramming,  will  be  theoreti- 
cally received  or  rejected  by  teachers,  just  in  propor- 
tion as  they  receive  or  reject  the  conception  of  an  art  of 
teaching  founded  on  intellectual  principles.  It  is  ob- 
vious enough  that  cramming  knowledge  into  the  memory 
without  regard  to  its  fitness  for  mental  digestion,  if  an 
art  at  ail,  is  an  art  of  a  very  low  order,  and  has  little  in 
common  with  that  which  consists  in  a  conscious  appre- 
ciation of  the  means  whereby  the  mind  is  awakened  to 
activity,  and  its  energies  trained  to  independent  power. 
The  teacher,  in  fact,  in  the  one  case  is  an  artist,  scien- 
tifically working  out  his  design  in  accordance  with  the 
principles  of  hia  art,  and  ready  to  apply  all  its  resources 
to  the  emergencies  of  practice;  in  the  other  case,  he  is 
an  artisan  empirically  working  by  rule-of-thumb,  un- 
furnished with  principles  of  action,  and  succeeding, 
when  he  succeeds  at  all,  through  the  happy  accident 
that  the  pupil's  own  intellectual  activity  practically  de- 
feats the  natural  tendency  of  the  teacher's  mechanical 
drill. 


206  IMPORTANCK    OF   TRAINING. 

I  do  not,  however,  by  any  means  ))retendto  assert  that 
every  teacher  who  declines  to  accept  this  notion  of 
teaching  as  an  art,  is  an  artisan.  It  often  happens  that 
a  man  works  on  a  theory  which  he  does  not  consciously 
appreciate,  and  in  his  actual  practice  obviates  the  ob- 
jection which  might  be  taken  against  some  of  his  pro- 
cesses. Hence  we  find  teachers,  while  denouncing  such 
expressions  as  "  development  and  cultivation  of  the  in- 
telligence "  as  "frothy,"*  doing  practically  all  they  can 
to  develop  and  cultivate  the  intelligence  of  their  pupils. 
Such  teachers  do  indeed  violently  drive  "  the  goat  " 
into  the  stomach  of  their  pupils,  but  when  they  have 
got  it  there  take  great  pains  to  have  it  digested  in  some 
fashion  or  other.  I  believe  that  the  process  would  be 
much  facilitated  by  their  knowing  something  of  the 
physiology  of  digestion,  but  I  do  not  therefore  designate 
such  practitioners  as  artisans.  At  the  same  time  I  do 
not  call  them  artists,  for  their  procedure  violates  nature, 
and  true  art  never  does  that.  The  epithet  artisan  may 
however  be  restricted  to  those — and  their  number  is 
legion — whose  practice  consists  of  cramming  pur  et 
simple. 

On  the  whole,  then,  I  contend  that  if  we  could  ex- 
amine the  entire  practice  of  those  teachers  who  actually 
succeed  in  endowing  the  large  majority — not  a  select 
few — of  their  pupils  with  sound  and  systematic  knowl- 
edge, and  with  well-informed  minds,  we  should  find 
that,  whatever  be  their  theoretic  notions,  they  have 
worked  on  the  principles  on  which  I  have  been  all  along 

*  See  a  letter  in  the  "Educational  Times,"  for  December,  1872,  from 
the  Rev.  E.  Boden,  Head  Master  of  the  Clitheroe  Royal  Grammar 
School. 


ARTISTS    AND    ARTISANS.  207 

insisting.  They  have  sncceedod  by  the  «ilevelopment 
and  cultivation  of  the  intelligence  of  their  pupils,  and 
by  nothing  else,  and  they  have  succeeded  just  in  pro- 
portion as  they  have  consciously  kept  this  object  in 
view.  Let  us  hear  what  Dean  Stanley  tells  us  of  Arnold's 
teaching.  "Arnold's  whole  method  was  founded  on  the 
principle  of  awakening  the  intelligence  of  every  indi- 
vidual boy.  Hence  it  was  his  practice  to  teach,  not,  as 
you  perceive,  by  downpouring,  but  by  questioning.  As 
a  general  rule  he  never  gave  information  except  as  a 
reward  for  an  answer,  and  often  withheld  it  altogether, 
or  checked  himself  in  the  very  act  of  uttering  it,  from  a 
sense  that  those  whom  he  was  addressing  had  not  suf- 
ficient interest  or  sympathy  to  entitle  them  to  receive 
it.  His  explanations  were  as  short  as  possible,  enough 
to  dispose  of  the  difficulty  and  no  more,  and  his  ques- 
tions were  of  a  kind  to  call  the  attention  of  the  boys  to 
the  real  point  of  every  subject,  to  disclose  to  them  the 
exact  boundaries  of  what  they  knew  and  did  not  know, 
and  to  cultivate  a  habit  not  only  of  collecting  facts,  but 
of  expressing  themselves  with  facility,  and  of  under- 
standing the  principles  on  which  these  facts  rested." 
Such  was  Arnold's  method  of  teaching;  and  it  is  obvious 
that,  mutatis  mutandis,  modified  somewhat  so  as  to  apply 
to  the  earliest  elementary  instruction,  it  involves  all  the 
principles  which  1  have  contended  for,  as  constituting 
the  true  art  of  teaching.  The  boys  were,  in  fact,  teach- 
ing themselves  under  the  direction  of  the  teacher  with- 
out, or  with  the  slightest,  explanation  on  his  part.  They 
were  using  all  their  minds  on  tiie  subject,  and  gaining  in- 
dependent power.  Arnold,  to  use  a  famous  French  teach- 
er's expression,  was  "laboring  to  render  himself  useless." 


208  IMPORTANCE    OF   TRAINING. 

But  I  must  draw  these  remarks  to  a  conclusion.  It  is 
hardly  necessary  for  me  to  state  formally  the  principips 
for  which  I  have  been  all  along  arguing. 

The  upshot  is  this — Teaching  is  not  a  blind  routine 
but  an  art,  which  has  a  definite  end  in  view.  An  art 
implies  an  artist  who  works  by  systematic  rules.  The 
processes  and  rules  of  art  explicitly  or  implicitly  evolve 
the  principles  involved  in  science.  The  art  or  practice 
of  education,  therefore,  is  founded  on  the  science  or 
theory  of  education,  while  the  science  of  education  is 
itself  founded  on  the  science  of  mind  or  psychology. 
The  complete  equipment  and  training  of  the  teacher  for 
his  profession  comprehends  therefore: — 

(a)  A  knowledge  of  the  subject  of  instruction. 

(b)  A  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  beiiig  to  be  in- 
structed. 

(c)  A  knowledge  of  the  best  methods  of  instruction. 

This  knowledge  gained  by  careful  study  and  con- 
joined with  practice,  constitutes  the  training  of  the 
teacher. 


IMPORTANCE  OF  TRAINING  OF  TEACHERS, 
ANALYSIS, 


I.   Teaching  is  not  as  yet  a  "  Profession. " 1 89 

1.  No  positive  attainments  demanded 189 

2.  No  training 190 

3.  No  authoritative  credentials _..  ...: ..190 

II.  Results  of  its  Non- Professional  clmracter. 

1.  Sought  by  the  incompetent  as  a  "genteel"  avocation.  190 
(«)  Impossible  in  medicine,  law,  etc ..191 

2.  Even  the  naturally  gifted  would  profit  by  training..  192 

3.  To  teach  without  training  is  quackery.. 193 

III.  Arguments  urged  against  Training. 193 

1.  That  it  is  unnecessary  for  primary  teaching 193 

(a)  But  it  is  necessary  in  every  department. .193 

ip)  And  even  more  important  in  the  first  stages 194 

a  Good  teaching  involves  mental  training 194 

/i  It  imparts  pleasure  to  learning 195 

(c)  The  most  learned  teachers  put  into  this  depart- 
ment  196 

{d)  The  child's  education  not  begun  at  school ...196 

a  Nature's  teaching  to  be  understood  and  followed-197 
/i  Children  often  dull  from  lack  of  this 197 

2.  That  "  Inward  Impulse"  is  warrant  to  teach 197 

{a)  Parents  not  competent  to  judge  teachers,. 198 

{b)  Damage  to  children  during  the  experiment 198 

(c)  Applicable  to  no  other  skilled  occupation ...198 

3.  That  he  who  knows  can  teach 199 

(a)  The  problem  is  to  get  the  pupil  to  learu -..199 

a  To  have  learned  is  to  have  gone  through  the 

process - ...199 

H  209  ' 


210  IMPORTANCE    OF    TRAINING. 

(i  But  this  must  have  been  conscious  to  be 

helpful. --.. 200 

y  Teaching  has  its  own  laws 200 

(6)  Knowledge  may  impede  teaching  by  its  extent.. -200 

a  Teacher  on  the  heights,  pupils  in  the  plain .200 

ft  Teacher  has  forgotten  how  hard  it  is  to  learn.. .200 
IV.   Teaching  as  it  is,  and  as  it  should  be 201 

1.  Teaching  contrasted  with  cramming 201 

{a)  The  boa  and  the  undigested  goat 202 

{b)  How  the  true  teacher  proceeds 203 

a  He  forms  a  just  conception  of  education 203 

ft  He  studies  the  proper  means  to  be  employed 203 

y  He  tests  his  science  by  psychology 204 

(c)  Distinction  between  artist  and  artisan 205 

a  Not  all  untrained  teachers  artisans — 206 

ft  But  all  crammers  eminently  so 206 

2.  All  good  teachers  have  worked  on  these  principles.  .207 
(a)  Thomas  Arnold's  teaching 207 

V.   Concluding  Summary. 

The  training  of  the  teacher  includes: 

1.  Knowledge  of  the  subject 208 

2.  Knowledge  of  the  pupil 208 

3.  Knowledge  of  the  best  methods ..J.20§ 


THE  TRUE  FOUNDATION   OF   SCIENCE- 
TEACHING.* 


It  is  almost  a  truism  to  say,  that  the  foundation  of  a 
building  is  its  most  important  feature.  If  the  founda- 
tion be  either  hisecure  in  itself,  or  laid  without  regard 
to  the  plan  of  the  superstructure,  the  building  as  a 
whole  will  be  found  wanting  both  in  unity  and  strength. 
A  building  is  in  fact  the  embodiment  and  realization  of 
an  idea  conceived  in  the  mind  of  the  architect,  and  if  he 
is  competent  for  his  post,  and.  can  secure  the  needful 
co-operation,  the  practical  expression  will  symmetrically 
correspond  to  the  conception.  But  unless  the  founda- 
tion is  solidly  laid,  and  all  the  parts  of  the  building  are 
constructed  with  relation  to  it,  his  aesthetic  and  theoretic 
skill  will  go  for  little  or  nothing.  His  work  is  doomed 
to  failure  from  the  beginning,  and  the  extent  of  the  fail- 
ure will  be  proportionate  to  the  ambition  of  the  design. 
These  remarks  are  applicable  to  the  art  of  building  gen- 
erally, whether  shown  in  large  and  imposing  structures, 
or  in  the  meanest  cottages.  In  no  case  can  the  essential 
elements  of  unity  and  strength  be  dispensed  with. 

In  these  preliminary  observations  I  have  foreshadowed 
the  subject  with  which  I  have  to  deal — that  of  Science- 
teaching — whether  carried  on  under  ihe  direction  of  a 
Science  and  Art  Department,  or  in  the  smallest  class  of 
a  private  school;  and  nay  purpose  is  to  ascertain  how 

*  Delivered  at  the  College  of  Preceptors,  on  the  ilth  Dec,  1872. 

211 


212  TRUE    FOUNDATION    OF    SCIENCE-TEACHING. 

far  the  ideal  of  theorj'  is  realized  in  the  general  prac- 
tice. 

Whatever  might  have  been  said  of  the  neglect  of 
what  is  called  "  science  "  in  former  times,  we  cannot 
make  the  same  complaint  now.  A  ringing  chorus  of 
voices  may  be  heard  vociferously  demanding  science  tor 
the  children  of  primary,  secondary,  and  public  schools; 
for  the  Universities;  in  short,  for  all  classes  of  society. 
"Science,"  it  is  said,  "is  the  grand  desideratum  of  our 
age,  the  true  mark  of  our  civilization.  We  want  sci- 
ence to  supply  a  mental  discipline  unfurnished  by  the 
old-esiablished  curriculum;  we  want  it  as  the  basis  of 
the  technical  instruction  of  our  workmen." 

In  answer  to  this  universal  demand  we  see  something 
called  Science-teaching  finding  its  way  into  primary,  and 
even  into  public  schools,  in  spite  of  the  declaration  of 
an  eminent  Head -master,  not  longer  back  than  1863, 
that  instruction  in  physical  science,  in  the  way  in  which 
it  could  be  given  in  Winchester  School,  was  "  worth- 
less; "  that  a  "scientific  fact  was  a  fact  which  produced 
nothing  in  a  boy's  mind;"  and  that  this  kind  of  instruc- 
tion "gave  no  power  whatever."  We  further  see  this 
something,  called  Science,  stimulated  by  grants  and 
prizes,  through  the  vast  machinery  of  the  Science  and 
Art  Department;  and  lastly  we  have,  at  this  moment,  a 
Royal  Commission  of  eminent  scientific  men,  taking 
evidence  and  furnishing  Reports  on  "  Scientific  In- 
struction and  theAdvancement  of  Science."  Who,  after 
this,  will  be  bold  enough  to  say  that  Science  is  not  look- 
ing up  in  the  knowledge-market  ? 

But  amidst  all  the  clamor  of  voices  demanding  in- 
struction in  Science,  we  listen  in  vain  for  the  authorita- 


WHAT    IIS    MEANT    BY    SCIKNCE.  213 

tive  voice — the  voice  of  tlie  master  artist — which  shall 
define  for  us  the  aims  and  ends  of  Science,  and  lay  down 
the  laws  of  that  teachino-  by  which  they  are  to  be 
effectively  secured.  As  things  go,  every  teacher  is  left 
to  frame  his  own  theory  of  Science-teaching,  and  his 
own  empirical  method  of  carrying  it  out;  and  the  result 
is,  to  apply  our  illustration,  that  the  fabric  of  Science- 
teaching  now  rising  before  us  rests  upon  no  recognized 
and  established  foundation,  exhibits  no  principle  of  liar- 
monious  design,  and  that  its  various  stages  have  scarcely 
any  relation  to  each  other,  and  least  of  all  to  any  solidly 
com  pacted  ground  -pi  an. 

The  first  question  for  ccmsideration  is,  "  What  is 
meant  by  Science?"  The  shortest  answer  that  can  be 
given  is,  that  "  Science  is  organized  knowledge."  This 
is,  however,  too  general  for  our  present  purpose,  which 
is,  to  deal  with  Physical  Science.  In  a  somewhat  de- 
veloped form,  then,  physical  science  is  an  organized 
knowle<lge  of  material,  concrete,  objective  facts  or  phe- 
nomena. Tlie  term  "  organized,"  it  will  be  seen,  is  the 
essence  of  the  definition,  inasmuch  as  it  connotes  or 
implies  that  certain  objective  relations  subsisting  in  the 
nature  of  things,  between  facts  or  phenomena,  are  sub- 
jectively appreciated  by  the  mind — that  is,  that  Science 
differs  from  mere  knowledge  by  being  a  knowledge  both 
of  facts,  and  of  their  relations  to  each  other.  The  mere 
random,  haphazard  accumulation  of  facts,  then,  is  not 
Science;  but  the  perception  and  conception  of  their 
natural  relations  to  each  other,  the  comprehension  of 
these  relations  under  general  laws,  and  the  organization 
of  facts  and  laws  into  one  body,  the  parts  of  which  are 
seen  to  be  subservient  to  each  other,  is  Science. 


214  TRUE    FOUNDATION    OF    SCIENCE-TEACHING. 

Returning-  to  the  other  factor  of  the  definition, 
"  Knowledge,"  we  observe  that  there  are  two  kinds  of 
knowledge — what  we  know  through  our  own  experi- 
ence, and  what  we  know  through  the  experience  of 
others.  Thus,  I  know  by  my  own  knowledge  that  I 
have  an  audience  before  me,  and  I  know  through  the 
knowledge  of  others  that  the  earth  is  25,000  miles  in 
circumference.  This  latter  fact,  however,  I  know  in  a 
sense  different  from  that  in  which  I  know  the  former. 
The  one  is  a  part  of  my  experience,  of  my  very  being. 
The  other  I  can  only  be  strictly  said  to  know  when  I 
have,  by  an  effort  of  the  mind,  passed  through  the  con- 
nected chain  of  facts  and  reasonings  on  which  the 
demonstration  is  founded.  Thus  only  can  it  become  my 
knowledge  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term. 

Strictly  speaking,  then,  organized  knowledge,  or  Sci- 
ence, is  originally  based  on  unorganized  knowledge,  and 
is  the  outcome  of  the  learner's  own  observation  of  facts 
through  the  exercise  of  his  own  senses,  and  his  own  re- 
flection upon  what  he  has  observed.  This  knowledge, 
T;ltimately  organized  into  Science  through  the  operation 
of  his  mind,  he  may  with  just  right  call  his  own;  and, 
as  a  learner,  he  can  properly  call  no  other  knowledge 
his  own.  What  is  reported  to  us  by  another  is  that 
other's,  if  gained  at  first-hand  by  experience;  but  it 
stands  on  a  different  footing  from  that  which  we  have 
gained  by  our  own  experience.  He  merely  hands  it 
over  to  us;  but  when  we  receive  it,  its  condition  is 
already  changed.  It  wants  the  brightness,  definiteness, 
and  certainty  in  our  eyes,  which  it  had  in  his;  and, 
moreover,  it  is  merely  a  loan,  and  not  our  property. 
The  fact,  for  instance,  about  the  earth's  circumference 


WHAT    IS    MEANT    BY    SCIENCE.  215 

was  to  him  a  living  fact;  it  sprang  into  being  as  the 
outcome  of  experiments  and  reasonings,  with  the  entire 
chain  of  wliich  it  was  seen  by  him  to  be  intimately — 
indeed  indissolubly  and  organically  connected.  To  us 
it  is  a  dead  fact,  severed  from  its  connection  with  the 
body  of  truth,  and,  by  our  hypothesis,  having  no 
organic  relation  to  the  living  truths  we  have  gained  by 
our  own  minds.  These  are  convertible  into  our  Science; 
that  is  noi.  What  I  insist  on  then  is,  that  the  knowl- 
edge from  experience — that  which  is  gained  by  bringing 
our  own  minds  into  direct  contact  with  matter — is  the 
only  knowledge  that  as  novices  in  science  we  have  to 
do  with.  The  dogmatic  knowledge  imposed  on  us  by 
authority,  though  originally  gained  by  the  same  means, 
is,  really,  not  ours,  but  another's — is,  as  far  as  we  are 
concerned,  unorganizable;  and  therefore,  though  Science 
to  its  proprietor,  is  not  Science  to  us.  To  us  it  is 
merely  information,  or  haphazard  knowledge. 

The  conclusions,  then,  at  which  we  arrive,  are — (1) 
That  the  true  foundation  of  physical  Science  lies  in  the 
knowledge  of  physical  facts  gained  at  first-hand  by  ob- 
servation and  experiment,  to  be  made  by  the  learner 
himself;  (2)  that  all  knowledge  not  thus  gained  is,  pro 
tanto,  unorganizable,  and  not  suited  to  his  actual  condi- 
tion; and  (3)  that  his  facts  become  organized  into 
Science  by  the  operation  of  his  own  mind  upon  them. 

Having  given  some  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  Science, 
and  how  it  grows  up  in  the  mind  of  the  learner,  I  turn 
now  to  the  teacher,  and  briefly  inquire  what  is  his  func- 
tion in  the  process  of  Science-teaching. 

I  have  elsewhere*  endeavored  to  expound  the  correla- 
*  See  "  Theories  of  Teaching,"  witii  the  correspoucling  Practice. 


216  TRUE    FOUXDATIOX    OF    SCIENCE-TEACHING. 

tion  of  learning  unci  teaching,  and  to  show  that  the  nat- 
ural ])roce'!S  of  investigation  by  wliich  the  unassisted 
student — unassisted,  that  is  by  book  or  teacher, — would 
seek,  as  a  first  discoverer,  to  gain  an  accurate  knowl- 
edge of  facts  and  their  interpretation,  suggests  to  us 
both  the  nature  and  scope  of  the  teacher's,  and  espe- 
cially the  Science-teacher's,  functions.  According  to  this 
view  of  the  subject,  the  learner's  method,  and  the  teach- 
er's, serve  as  a  mutual  limit  to  each  other.  The  learner 
is  a  discoverer  or  investigator  engaged  in  interrogating 
the  concrete  matter  before  him,  with  a  view  to  ascertain 
its  nature  and  properties:  and  the  teacher  is  a  sui)erin- 
tendent  or  director  of  the  learner's  process;  poiniing  out 
the  problem  to  be  solved,  concentrating  the  learner's 
attention  upon  it,  varying  the  points  of  view  suggesting 
experiments,  inquiring  what  they  result  in;  converting 
even  errors  and  mistakes  into  means  of  increased  power, 
bringing  back  the  old  to  interpret  the  new,  the  known 
to  interpret  the  unknown,  recpiiring  an  exact  record  of 
results  arrived  at— in  short,  exercising  all  the  powers  of 
the  learner's  mind  upon  the  matter  in  hand,  in  order  to 
make  him  an  accurate  observer  and  experimenter,  and 
to  train  him  in  the  method  of  investigation. 

The  teacher,  then,  is  to  be  governed  in  his  teaching, 
not  by  independent  notions  of  his  own,  iutt  by  consid- 
erations inherent  in  the  natural  process  by  which  the 
pupil  learns.  He  is  not,  therefore,  at  libei'ty  to  ignore 
this  natural  process,  which  essentially  involves  the  ob- 
servation, experiment,  and  reflection  of  the  pupil;  nor 
to  supersede  it  by  intruding  the  results  of  the  observa- 
tion, experiment,  and  reflection  of  others.-  He  is,  on  the 
contrary,  bound  to  recognize  these  operations  of  his  pu- 


S'UISrCTION    OF    THE    TKACIIEK.  217 

pil^s  mincl  as  the  true  foundation  of  the  Science-teaching  which 
he  professes  to  carry  out.  In  other  wonls,  the  process 
of  the  learner  is  the  true  foundation  of  that  of  the 
teacher. 

This  sketcli  wonldbe  sufficient  were  it  merely  my  ob- 
ject to  present  a  theory.  But  as  I  am  seriously  in  earn- 
est, and  wish  to  see  the  claims  of  Science  vindicated, 
and  the  teaching  of  its  facts,  pnnciples,  and  laws  placed 
on  a  totally  different  ground  froin  that  which  it  now 
generally  occupies,  1  must  pursue  the  subject  further. 

It  will  have  been  observed,  that  I  lay  great  stress  on 
teaching  Science  in  such  a  way  that  it  shall  become  a 
real  training  of  the  student  in  the  method  of  Science, 
with  a  view  to  the  forming  of  the  scientific  mind.  Ac- 
cording to  the  usual  methods  of  science-teaching,  it  is 
quite  possible  for  a  student  to  "get  u]),"  by  cramming, 
a  number  of  books  on  scientific  subjects,  to  attend  lect- 
ure after  lecture  on  the  same  subjects,  to  be  drenched 
with  endless  explanations  and  comments  on  descriptions 
of  experiments  performed  by  others,  to  lodge  in  his 
memory  the  technical  results  of  investigations  in  which 
he  has  taken  no  part  himself,  together  with  formulae, 
rules,  and  definitions  ad  infinitum,  and  yet,  after  all,  never 
to  have  even  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  idea  involved  in 
investigation,  or  to  have  been  for  a  moment  animated 
by  the  spirit  of  the  scientific  exploi-er.  That  spirit  is  a 
spirit  of  power,  which,  not  content  with  the  achieve- 
ments gained  by  others,  seeks  to  make  conquests  of  its 
own,  and  therefore  examines,  explores,  discovers,  and 
invents  for  itself.  These  are  the  manifestations  of  the 
spirit  of  investigation,  and  that  spirit  may  he  excited  by 
the  true  Science-teacher  in  the  heart  of  a  little  child.     1 


218  TRUE    JFOtTNDATION    OF    SCIENCE-TEACHING. 

may  refer,  for  proof  of  this  assertion,  to  the  teacliing  of 
botauy  to  poor  village  children  by  the  late  Professor  Hen- 
slow;  to  the  teaching  of  general  Science  by  the  late  Dean 
Dawes  to  a  similar  class  of  children;  to  that  pursued  at 
the  present  time  at  the  Bristol  Trade  School ;  and  to  the 
invaluable  lessons  given  to  the  imaginary  Harry  and 
Lucy  by  Miss  Edgeworth.  Without  warranting  every 
process  adopted  by  these  eminently  successful  teachers, 
some  of  whom  were  peihaps  a  little  too  much  addicted 
to  explaining,  I  have  no  hestation  in  declaring  that  they 
one  and  all  acted  mainly  on  the  p]-inciple  that  true 
Science-teaching  consists  in  bringing  the  pupil's  mind 
into  direct  contact  with  facts — in  getting  him  to  inves- 
tigate, discover,  and  invent  for  himself.  The  same 
method  is  recommended  in  Miss  Youman's  philosophical 
Essay  "On  the  Culture  of  the  Observing  powers  of  chil- 
dren,"* and  rigorously  applied  in  her  "  First  Lessons  on 
Botany;  "  and  in  the  Supplement  to  that  little  volume  f  I 
have  given,  as  iis  editor,  a  tyjjical  lesson  on  the  pile-driv- 
ing engine,  which  illustrates  the  following  principles: — 

1.  That  the  pupils  throughout  the  lesson,  are  learning 
— i.  e.,  teaching  themselves,  by  the  exercise  of  their  own 
minds,  without,  and  not  by,  the  explanations  of  the 
teacher. 

2.  That  the  pupils  gain  their  knowledge  from  the 
object  itself,  not  from  a  description  of  the  object  fur- 
nished by  another. 

3.  That  the  observations  and  experiments  are  their 
own  observations  and  experiments,  made  by  their  own 

*  "  All  Essay  on  the  Culture  of  the  Observing  Powers  of  Children,  es- 
pecially in  connection  with  the  Study  of  IJotany.  By  Eliza  A.  Youmans, 
of  New  York,  with  Notes  and  a  Supplement  by  Joseph  Payne." 

t  See  also  page  95  of  this  volume. 


KNOWLEDGE    AT    FIRST-HAND.  219 

senses  and  by  their  own  hands,  as  investigators  seeking 
to  ascertain  for  themselves  what  the  object  before  them 
is,  and  what  it  is  capable  of  doing. 

4.  That  the  teacher  recognizes  his  proper  function  as 
that  of  a  guide  or  director  of  the  pupil's  process  of  self- 
teaching,  which  he  aids  by  moral  means,  but  does  not 
supersede  by  the  intervention  of  his  own  knowledge. 

These  hints  all  tend  to  show  what  is  really  meant  by 
Science-teaching,  as  generally  distinguished  from  other 
teaching. 

In  case,  howevei*,  my  competency  to  give  an  opinion 
on  Science-teaching  should  be  questioned,  I  beg  to  en- 
force my  views  by  the  authority  of  Professor  Huxley, 
who,  in  a  lecture  on  "Scientific  Education,"  thus  ex- 
presses himself : — "If  scientitic  training  is  to  yield  its 
most  eminent  results,  it  must  be  made  practical — that  is 
to  say,  in  explaining  to  a  child  the  general  phenomena 
of  nature,  you  must,  as  far  as  possible,  give  reality  to 
your  teaching  by  object-lessons.  In  teaching  him  bot- 
any, he  must  handle  the  plants  and  dissect  the  flowers 
for  himself;  in  teaching  him  physics  and  chemistry, 
you  must  not  be  solicitous  to  fill  him  with  information, 
but  you  must  be  careful  that  what  he  learns  he  knows 
of  his  own  knowledge.  Do  not  be  satisfied  with  telling 
him  that  a  magnet  attracts  iron.  Let  him  see  that  it 
does;  let  him  feel  the  pull  of  the  one  upon  the  other  for 
himself.  .  .  .  Pursue  this  discipline  carefully  and 
conscientiously,  and  you  may  make  sure  that,  however 
scanty  may  be  the  measure  of  information  which  you 
have  poured  into  the  boy's  mind,  you  have  created  an 
intellectual  habit  of  priceless  value  in  practical  life." 

Again,  in  the  same  lecture,  the  Professor  says, — "  If 


220  TRUE    FOUNDATION    OF    SCIENCE- TEACHING. 

the  great  benefits  of  scientific  training  arc  sought,  it  is 
essential  that  such  training  should  be  real — that  is  to 
say  that  the  mind  of  the  scholar  should  be  brought  into 
direct  relation  with  fact;  that  he  should  not  merely  be 
told  a  thing,  but  made  to  see,  by  the  use  of  his  own 
intellect  and  ability,  that  the  thing  is  so,  and  not  other- 
wise. The  great  peculiarity  of  scientific  training — that 
in  virtue  of  which  it  cannot  be  replaced  by  any  other 
discipline  whatever — is  this  bringing  of  the  mind  directly 
into  contact  with  fact,  and  ])ractising  tlie  mind  in  the 
completest  form  of  induction — that  is  to  say,  in  drawing 
conclusions  from  jiarticuhir  facts  made  known  by  imme- 
diate observations  of  Nature." 

To  the  same  effect  another  eminent  Science-teacher, 
Mr.  Wilson,  of  Kugby  School,  tlius  expresses  himself. 
"Theory  and  experience,"  he  says,  "alike  convince  me 
that  the  master  who  is  teaching  a  class  quite  unfamiliar 
with  scientific  method,  ought  to  make  his  class  teach 
themselves,  by  thinking  out  the  subject  of  the  lecture 
with  them,  taking  up  their  suggestions  and  illustrations, 
criticising  them,  hunting  them  down,  and  proving  a 
suggestion  barren  or  an  illustration  inapt;  starting  them 
on  a  fresh  scent  when  they  are  at  fault,  reminding  them 
of  some  familiar  fact  they  had  overlooked,  and  so  elicit- 
ing out  of  the  chaos  of  vague  notions  that  are  afloat  on 
the  matter  in  hand,  be  it  the  laws  of  motion,  the  evap- 
oration of  water,  or  the  origin  of  the  drift,  something  of 
order,  concatenation,  and  interest,  before  the  key  to  the 
mystery  is  given,  even  if,  at  all,  it  has  to  be  given. 
'Training  to  think,  not  to  be  a  mechanic  or  a  surveyor, 
'must  be  first  and  foremost  as  his  object.  So  valuable 
are  the  subjects  intrinsically,  and  such  excellent  models 


OPINIONS    OF    EMINENT    EDUCATORS,  221 

do  they  provide,  that  the  most  stupid  and  didactic 
teaching  will  not  be  useless;  but  it  will  not  be  the  same 
source  of  power  that  the  method  ot  investigation  will  be 
in  the  hands  of  a  good  master." 

My  last  quotation  will  be  from  the  very  valuable  lect- 
ure given  here  by  Dr.  Kemshead,  the  able  Science- 
teacher  of  Dulwich  C/ollege,  on  "The  Importance  of 
Physical  Science  as  a  branch  of  English  General  Educa- 
tion." Referring  to  education  generally,  he  says,  and 
I  entirely  agree  with  him, — "  I  wish  it  particularly  to  be 
borne  in  mind  that,  whenever  I  use  the  word  education, 
I  use  it  in  its  highest  ahd  truest  sense  of  .training  and 
developing  the  mind.  I  hold  the  acquisition  of  mere 
useful  knowledge,  however  important  and  valuable  it 
may  be,  to  be  entirely  secondary  and  subsidiary.  1  con- 
sider it  to  be  of  more  value  to  teach  the  young  mind 
to  think  out  one  original  problem,  to  draw  one  correct 
conclusion  for  itself,  than  to  have  acquired  the  whole  of 
'  Mangnall's  Questions '  or  '  Brewer's  Guide  to  Science.' " 
There  speaks  the  true  teacher.  But  what  does  he  say 
on  Scipuce-teaching?  This: — "I  wish  particularly  to 
draw  the  distinction  between  mere  scientific  knowledge 
and  scientific  training  I  do  not  believe  in  the  former; 
I  do  beheve  in  the  latter.  In  physical  and  experimental 
science,  studied  for  the  sake  of  training,  the  mode  of 
teaching  is  everything  I  know  of  one  school  [we  shall 
soon  see  that  thei-e  are  many  such]  in  which  physical 
science  is  made  a  strong  point  in  ihe  prospectus,  where 
chemistry  is  taught  b}'  reading  a  texl-book  (a  very  anti- 
quatpd  one,  since  it  only  gives  forty-five  elements),  but 
in  which  the  experiments  are  learnt  by  heart,  and  never 
seen  practically.     Such  a  proceeding  is  a  mere  farce  on 


222  TRUE    FOUXDATIOX    OF    SCTEXCE-TEACHING. 

Science."  But  Dr.  Kemshead  proceeds, — "  Of  course, 
as  mere  useful  knowledge,  Lardner's  hand-books,  or  any 
other  good  text-books,  might  be  committed  to  memory. 
So  long  as  the  facts  arc  correct,  and  are  put  in  a  manner 
that  the  pui)il  can  receive  them,  the  end  is  gained;  but 
this  is  not  scientific  teaching — cramming  if  you  like,  but 
not  teaching.  It  will  f  am  sure,  be  manifest  to  you  all 
that  there  is  nothing  of  scientific  training  in  this.  To 
develop  scientific  habits  of  thought — the  scientific  mind, 
the  teaching  must  be  of  a  totally  different  nature.  In 
order  to  get  the  fullest  benefit  from  a  scientific  educa- 
tion, the  teacher  should  endeavor  to  bring  his  jsupil  face 
to  face  with  the  great  problems  of  Nature,  as  though 
he  were  the  first  discoverer.  He  should  encourage  him 
from  the  first  to  record  accurately  all  his  experiments, 
the  object  be  had  in  view  in  making  them,  the  results 
even  when  they  have  failed,  and  the  inferences  which  he 
draws  in  each  case,  with  as  much  rigor  and  exactitude 
as  though  they  were  to  be  published  in  the  'Philosophi- 
cal Transactions.'  He  should,  in  fact,  teach  his  pupil  to 
face  the  great  problems  of  Nature  as  though  they  had 
never  been  solved  before." 

"To  face  the  great  problems  of  nature  as  though  they 
had  never  been  solved  before  " — "  to  bring  the  child 
face  to  face  with  the  great  problems  of  Nature,  as 
though  he  Avere  the  first  discoverer" — these  weighty, 
pregnant,  and  luminous  expressions  contain  the  essence 
of  the  whole  question  I  have  endeavored  to  set  before 
you.  They  define,  as  you  easily  perceive,  the  attitude 
of  the  pupil  in  regard  to  his  subjective  process  of  learn- 
ing— the  one  being  the  counterpart  of  the  other. 

It   will   have  been  noticed,  perhaps,  that  nothing  has 


THE    PROVINCE    OF    TEXT-BOOKS.  223 

been  said  of  text-l)ooks,  which  some  consider  as  "  the 
true  foundation  of  Science-teaching."  The  reason  of 
this  omission  Hes  in  the  nature  of  things.  The  hooks  of 
a  true  student  of  physical  Science  are  the  associated 
facts  and  ])lienomena  of  Nature.  He  finds  them  in  "  the 
I'unning  brooks,"  the  raoimfcains,  trees,  and  rocks;  where- 
ever,  in  short,  he  is  brouglit  face  to  face  with  facts  and 
phenomena;  these  are  the  pages,  whose  sentences,  phras- 
es, words,  and  letters  he  is  to  decipher  and  interpret  by 
his  own  investigation.  The  intervention  of  a  text-book, 
so-called,  between  the  student  and  the  matter  he  is  to 
stud}',  is  an  impertinence.  For  what  is  such  a  text-book? 
A  compendium  of  observations  and  experiments  made 
by  othei's  in  view  of  tliat  very  nature-book  which,  by  the 
hypothesis,  he  is  to  study  at  first  hand  for  himself,  and 
of  definitions,  rules,  generalizations,  and  classifications 
which  he  is,  through  the  active  powers  of  his  mind,  to 
make  for  himself.  The  student's  own  method  of  study 
is  the  true  method  of  Science.  He  is  being  gradually 
initiated  in  the  processes  by  which  both  knowledge, 
truly  his  own,  and  the  power  of  gaining  more,  are  se- 
cured. Why  should  we  supersede  and  neutralize  his  en- 
ergies, and  altogether  disorganize  his  plan  by  requiring 
him  to  receive  on  aiithority  the  results  of  other  people's 
labors  in  the  same  field  ?  Again,  a  text-book  on  Science 
is  a  logically  constructed  treatise,  in  wliich  the  proposi- 
tions last  arrived  ac  by  the  author  are  presented  first— 
in  the  reverse  order  to  that  followed  by  the  method  of 
Science.  The  sufficient  test  of  the  use  of  books  in  Sci- 
ence-teaching, is,  in  fact,  this:  Do  they  train  the  mind 
to  scientific  method  V  If  they  do  not — if  on  the  con- 
trary, they  discountenance  that  method, — then  they  are 


224  TRUE    FOUNDATION    OF    SCIENCE-TEACHING. 

to  be  rejected  in  that  elementary  work — the  foundation  of 
Science-teaching — with  which  alone  we  are  here  con- 
cerned. Once  raore,  I  appeal  to  Prof,  Huxley,  who  tells 
us  that,  "  If  Scientific  education  is  to  be  dealt  with  as 
mere  book-work,  it  will  be  better  not  to  attempt  it,  but  to 
stick  to  the  Latin  Grammar,  which  makes  no  pretense  to 
be  anything  but  book-work."  Again  in  his  Lecture  to 
Teachers, — "But  let  me  entreat  you  to  remember  my 
last  words.  Mere  book  learning  in  physical  Science  is  a 
sham  and  a  delusion.  What  you  teach,  unless  you  wish 
to  be  impostors,  that  you  must  first  know;  and  real 
knowledge  in  Science  means  personal  acquaintance  with 
the  facts,  be  they  few  or  many?"  But  I  must  add  to 
these  authoritative  words  those  of  Dr.  Acland,  who,  when 
asked  by  the  Public  Schools  Commission  his  opinion  of 
the  London  University  Examinations  in  Physical  Science, 
thus  replied: — "I  may  say,  generally,  that  I  should  val- 
ue all  knowledge  of  these  physical  sciences  very  little 
indeed  unless  it  was  otherwise  than  book-work  If  it  is 
merely  a  question  of  getting  up  certain  books,  and  be- 
ing able  to  answer  certain  book  questions  that  is  merely 
an  exercise  of  the  memory  of  a  very  useless  kind.  The 
great  object,  though  not  the  sole  object,  of  this  training 
should  be  to  get  the  boys  to  observe  and  understand  the 
action  of  matter  in  some  department  or  another  .  .  . 
I  want  them  to  see  and  know  the  things,  and  in  that 
way  they  will  evoke  many  qualities  of  the  mind,  which 
the  study  of  these  subjects  is  intended  to  develop."  (vol. 
iv.  p.  407).  These  words  sufficiently  show  both  what 
the  true  foundation  is,  and  what  it  is  not.  Once  more — 
for  the  importance  of  this  matter  cmu  hardly  be  too  much 
Insisted    on — hear    what  Prof.    Huxley    says,  in  his  evi- 


THE    PROVINCE    OP   TEXT-BOOKS.  235 

dence  before  the  Commission  on  Scientific  Instruction 
(p.  23): — "The  great  blunder  that  our  people  make,  I 
think,  is  attempting  to  teach  from  books;  our  school- 
masters have  largely  been  taught  from  books  and  noth- 
ing but  books,  and  a  great  many  of  them  understand 
nothing  but  book  teaching,  as  far  as  I  can  see.  The 
consequence  is,  that  when  they  attempt  to  deal  with 
Scientific  teaching,  they  make  nothing  of  it.  If  you  are 
setting  to  work  to  teach  a  child  Science,  you  must  teach 
it  through  its  eyes,  and  its  hands,  and  its  senses." 

I  do  not  for  a  moment  deny  that  much  is  to  be  gained 
from  the  study  of  scientific  text-books.  It  would  be 
absurd  to  do  so.  What  I  do  deny  is  that  the  reading  up 
of  books  on  Science — which  is,  strictly  speaking,  a  literary 
study — either  is,  or  can  possibly  be,  a  training  in  scien- 
tific method.  To  receive  facts  in  Science  on  any  other 
authority  than  that  of  the  facts  themselves;  to  get  up 
the  observations,  experiments  and  comments  of  others, 
instead  ol  observing,  experimenting,  and  commenting 
ourselves;  to  learn  definititions,  rules,  abstract  proposi- 
tions, technicalities,  before  we  personally  deal  with  the 
facts  which  lead  up  to  them;  all  this,  whether  in  literary 
or  scientific  education — and  especially  in  the  latter— is 
of  the  essence  of  cramming,  and  is  therefore  entirely 
opposed  to,  and  destructive  of,  true  mental  training  and 
discipline. 


TRUE  FOUNDATIOH  OF  SCIENCE-TEACHING- 
ANALYSIS, 


I.  Modern  demand  for  Science- Teaching ...212 

1.  Rests  upon  no  solid  foundation 211,  213 

II.    What  is  meant  by  Science  ? .213 

1.  Organized  linowledge  of  concrete  facts .213 

(a)  Not  onlj'  of  facts,  but  of  tlieir  relations 213 

(b)  Knowledge  by  experience  vs.  that  by  report 214 

(c)  Novices  have  to  do  only  with  experience .-.. 215 

(d)  Science  vs.  information 215 

2.  Hence  these  conclusions: 

(a)  The  foundation  lies  in  knowledge  at  first  hand..  _215 

{b)  All  other  knowledge  unorgauizable 215 

(c)  These  facts  are  organized  by  mental  action 215 

III.  Ftt  nction  of  the  Teacher  in  Science-  Teaching .216 

1.  The  learner's  and  the  teacher's rfnethods  limit  each 

other __. -216 

(o)  The   teacher  to  be   governed   by   the  pupil's 

methods 217 

IV.  The  Pupil's  mind  to  be  brought  into  contact  loith  Facts 217 

1.  Facts  may  be  crammed  without  a  glimpse  of  the 

idea ....217 

2.  Even  little  children  may  have  spirit  of  investigation. 218 
(a)  Proved  by  Prof.  Henslow,  Miss  Edgeworth,  etc. 218 

3.  Illustrated  by  lesson  on  pile-driver. .219 

(a)  Pupils  learn  without  explanations 219 

(b)  They  gain  their  knowledge  from  the  object  itself  .219 

(c)  They  are  personal  investigators 219 

{d)  The  teacher  is  the  guide  and  director 219 

4.  Confirmed  by  eminent  educators 219 

(a)  Prof.  Huxley ..219 

226 


ANALYSIS.  227 

(b)  Mr.  Wilson  of  Rugby  School 220 

(c)  Dr.  Kemshead,  of  Dulwich  College 221 

.  The  true  text-books  are  the  facts  of  nature 223 

(a)  Intervention  of  a  book  an  impertinence 223 

(b)  Its  metliod  the  opposite  of  investigation 223 

(c)  Book-learning  in  science  a  sham  and  delusion 224 

(d)  Opinions  of  eminent  educators .224 

(e)  Reading  text-books  literary,  not  scientific 225 


PESTALOZZI; 

THE    INFLUENCE     OF     HIS    PRINCIPLES     AND     PRACTICE    ON 
ELEMENTARY    EDUCATION.* 


c 


Familiar  as  Pestalozzi's  name  is  to  our  ears,  it  will 
hardly  be  pretended  that  he  himself  is  well  known 
amongst  us.  His  life  and  personal  character — tiie  work 
he  did  himself,  and  that  which  he  influenced  others  to 
do — his  successess  and  failures  as  a  teacher,  form  alto- 
gether a  large  subject,  which  requires,  to  do  it  justice,  a 
thoughtful  and  lengthened  study.  Parts  of  the  subject 
have  been  from  time  to  time  brought  very  prominently 
before  the  public,  but  often  in  such  a  way  as  to  throw 
the  rest  into  shadow,  and  hinder  the  appreciation  of  it 
as  a  whole.  Though  this  has  been  done  without  any 
hostile  intention,  the  general  effect  has  been  in  England 
to  misrepresent,  and  therefore  to  under-estimate,  a  very 
remarkable  man — a  man  whose  principles,  slowly  but 
surely  operating  on  the  public  opinion  of  Germany,  have 
sufficed,  to  use  his  own  pithy  expression,  "to  turn  right 
round  the  car  of  Education,  and  set  it  in  a  new  direc- 
tion." 

One  of  the  aspects  in  which  he  has  been  brought  be- 
fore us — and  it  deserves  every  consideration — is  that  of 
an   earnest,  self-sacrificing,  enthusiastic  philanthropist,^ 
endowed  with  what  Kichter  calls    "an  almighty  love,'' 

*  A  lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of  Preceptors,  on  the  20th  Feb., 
1875. 

228 


f 


PARTIAL    VIKWS    OF    HIS    OIIAHACTER.  229 

whose  first  .'ind  last  tliouglit  was  how  he  mio-lit  raise  tlie 
debased  and  suffering  among  his  countrymen  to  a  higher 
level  of  happiness  and  knowledge,  by  bestowing  upon 
them  tlie  blessings  of  education.  It  is  right  that  he 
should  be  thus  exhibited  to  the  world,  for  never  did  any 
man  better  deserve  to  be  enrolled  in  the  noble  array  of 
martyrs  who  have  died  that  others  might  live,  tiian  Pes- 
taiozzi.  To  call  hiin  the  Howard  of  educational  philan. 
thi-opists,  is  only  doing  scant  justice  to  his  devoted  char- 
acter, and  under-estimates,  rather  than  over-estimates, 
the  man. 

Another  aspect  in  which  Pestalozzi  is  sometimes  |)re- 
sented  to  us,  is  that  of  an  unhandy,  unpractical,  di-eamy 
theorist;  whose  views  were  ever  extending  beyond  the 
compass  of  his  control;  who,  like  the  djinn  of  the  East- 
ern story,  called  into  being  forces  which  mastered  in- 
stead of  obeying  him;  whose  "unrivalled  incapacity  for 
governing"  (this  is  his  own  confession)  made  him  the 
victim  of  circumstances;  who  was  utterly  wanting  in 
worldly  wisdom;  who,  knowing  man,  did  not  know  men; 
and  who,  therefore,  is  to  be  set  down  as  one  who  prom- 
ised much  more  than  he  performed.  It  is  impossible  to 
deny  that  there  is  substantial  truth  in  such  a  representa- 
tion; but  this  only  increases  the  wonder  that,  in  spite  of 
his  disqualifications,  he  accomplished  so  much.  It  is 
still  true  that  his  awakening  voice,  calling  for  reform  in 
education,  was  responded  to  by  hundreds  of  earnest  and 
intelligent  men,  who  placed  themselves  under  his  ban- 
ner, and  were  proud  to  follow  whither  the  Luther  of 
educational  reform  wished  to  lead  them. 

A  third  view  of  Pestalozzi  presents  him  to  us  as 
merely  interested  about  elementary  education — and  this 


230  PESTALOZZI. 

appears  to  many  who  are  engaged  in  teaching  what  are 
called  higher  subjects,  a  matter  in  which  they  have  little 
or  no  concern.  Those,  however,  who  thus  look  down  on 
Pestalozzi's  work,  only  show,  by  their  indifference,  a 
profound  want,  both  of  self-knowledge,  and  of  a  knowl- 
edge of  his  principles  and  purpose.  Elementary  educa- 
tion, in  the  sense  in  which  Pestalozzi  understands  it,  is, 
or  ought  to  be,  the  concern  of  every  teacher,  whatever 
be  his  especial  subject,  and  whatever  the  age  of  his  pu- 
pils; and  when  he  sees  that  elementary  education  is 
only  another  expression  for  the  forming  of  the  character 
and  mind  of  the  child,  he  must  acknowledge  that  this 
object  comes  properly  within  the  sphere  of  his  labors, 
and  deserves,  on  every  ground,  his  thoughtful  atten- 
tion. 

In  spite,  then,  of  Pestalozzi's  patent  disqualificationis 
in  many  respects  for  the  task  he  undertook;  in  spite  of 
his  ignorance  of  even  common  subjects  (for  he  spoke, 
read,  wrote,  and  ciphered  badly,  and  knew  next  to 
nothing  of  classics  or  science);  in  spite  of  his  want  of 
woi'ldly  wisdom,  of  any  comprehensive  and  exact  knowl- 
edge of  men  and  of  things;  in  spite  of  his  being  merely 
an  elementary  teacher, — through  the  force  of  his  all- 
conquering  love,  the  nobility  of  his  heart,  the  resistless 
energy  of  his  enthusiasm,  his  firm  grasp  of  a  few  first 
principles,  his  eloquent  exposition  of  them  in  words, 
his  resolute  manifestation  of  them  in  deeds, — he  stands 
forth  among  educational  reformers  as  the  man  whose 
influence  on  education  is  wider,  deeper,  more  penetrat- 
ing, than  that  of  all  the  rest — the  prophet  and  the  sov- 
ereign of  the  domain  in  which  he  lived  and  labored. 

The  fact  that,  with  such  disqualifications   and   draw- 


/ 


HIS    PERSONAL    DISADVANTAGES.  231 

backs,  he  has  attained  such  a  position,  supersedes  any 
argument  for  our  giving  earnest  heed  to  what  he  was 
and  what  he  did.  It  is  a  fact  pregnant  in  suggestions, 
and  to  the  consideration  of  them  this  Lecture  is  to  be 
devoted. 

It  was  late  in  life — he  was  fifty-two  years  of  age — 
before  Pestalozzi  became  a  practical  schoolmaster.  He 
had  even  begun  to  despair  of  ever  finding  the  career  in 
which  he  might  attempt  to  realize  the  theories  over 
which  his  loving  heart  and  teeming  brain  had  been 
brooding  from  his  earliest  youth.  He  feared  that  he 
should  die,  without  reducing  the  ideal  of  his  thought  to 
the  real  of  action.* 

Besides  the  advanced  age  at  which  Pestalozzi  began 
his  work,  there  was  another  disability  in  his  case  to 
which  I  have  not  referred.  This  was,  that  not  only  had 
he  had  no  experience  of  school  work,  but  he  knew  no  emi- 
nent teacher  whose  example  might  have  stimulated  him 
to  imitation;  and  he  was  entirely  ignorant  (with  one 
notable  exception)  of  all  writings  on  the  theory  and 
practice  of  education.  The  exception  I  refer  to  is  the 
Emile  of  Rousseau,  a  remarkably  suggestive  book,  which 
made,  as  was  to  be  expected,  a  strong  impression  on  his 
mind.  We  know  from  his  own  account,  that  he  had 
already  endeavored,  with  indifferent  success,  to  make 
his  own  son  another  Emile.     The  diary  in  which  he  has 

*  See  the  particulars  of  Pestalozzi's  life,  in  Mr.  Quick's  admirable  Essays 
on  Educational  Reformers ;  iu  PesiaZ;>22i,  edited  for  the  Home  and  Colo- 
nial Society,  by  Mr.  Dunning,  in  Von  Raumer's  History  of  Education  ;  in 
Roger  de  Guimps'  Histoire  de  Pestalozzi,  de  sa  Pensee,  et  dc  son  (Euvre, 
Lausanne,  1874;  in  the  Life  and  ivork  of  Pestalozzi,  by  Hermann  Krusi, 
New  York,  1875;  and  in  various  treatises  by  Mr.  Henry  Barnard,  formerly 
Commissioner  of  Education,  Washington. 


232  PESTALOZZI. 

recorded  day  by  day  the  particulars  of  his  experinu'nt  is 
extremely  interesting  and  instructive. 

At  fifty-two  years  of  age,  then,  we  find  Pestalozzi 
utterly  unacquainted  with  the  science  and  the  art  of 
education,  and  very  scantily  furnished  even  with  ele- 
mentary knowledge,  undertaking  at  Stanz,  in  the  canton 
of  Unterwalden,  the  charge  of  eightycliildren,  whom 
the  events  of  war  had  rendered  homeless  and  destitute. 
Here  he  was  at  last  in  the  position  Avhich,  during  years 
of  sorrow  and  disappointment,  he  had  eagerly  desired  to 
fill.  He  was  now  brought  into  immediate  contact  with 
ignorance,  vice,  and  brutality,  and  had  the  opportiinity 
for  testing  the  power  of  his  long-cherished  theories. 
The  man  whose  absorbing  idea  had  been  that  the 
ennobling  of  the  people,  even  of  the  lowest  class, 
through  education,  was  no  mere  dream,  was  now,  in  the 
midst  of  extraordinary  diflSculties,  to  struggle  with  the 
solution  of  the  problem.  And  surely  if  any  man  con- 
sciously possessing  strength  to  fight,  and  only  desiring 
to  be  brought  face  to  face  with  his  adversary,  ever  had 
his  utmost  wishes  granted,  it  was  Pestalozzi  at  Stanz. 
Let  us  try  for  a  moment  to  realize  the  circumstances — 
the  forces  of  the  enemy  on  the  one  side,  the  single  arm 
on  the  other,  and  the  field  oi  the  combat.  The  house  in 
which  the  eighty  children  were  assembled,  to  be  boarded, 
lodged,  and  taught,  was  an  old  tumble-down  Ursuline 
convent,  scarcely  habitable,  and  destitute  of  all  the  con- 
veniences of  life.  The  only  apartment  suitable  for  a 
schoolroom  was  about  twenty-four  feet  square,  furnished 
with  a  few  desks  and  forms;  and  into  this  were  crowded 
the  wretched  children,  noisy,  dirty,  diseased,  and  igno- 
rant, with  the  manners  and  habits  of  barbarians.     Pes- 


HIS  WORK    AT    STANZ.  233 

talozzi's  only  iielper  in  the  management  of  the  institu- 
tion was  an  old  woman,  who  cooked  the  food  and  swept 
the  rooms;  so  that  he  was,  as  he  tells  us  himself,  not 
only  the  teacher,  but  the  paymaster,  the  man-servant, 
and  almost  the  house-maid  of  the  chihlren. 

Here,  then,  we  see  Pestalozzi  surrounded  by  a  "sea 
of  troubles,"  against  which  he  had  not  only  "  to  take 
arms,"  but  to  forge  the  arms  himself.  And  what  was 
the  single  weapon  on  which  he  relied  for  conquest? 
It  was  his  own  loving  heart.  Hear  his  words: — "My 
wishes  were  now  accomplished.  1  felt  convinced  that 
I  my  heart  would  change  the  condition  of  my  children  as 
speedily  as  the  springtide  sun  reanimates  the  earth 
frozen  by  the  winter."  "Nor,"  he  adds,  "  was  I  mis- 
taken. Before  the  springtide  sun  melted  away  the  snow 
from  our  mountains,  you  could  no  longer  recognize  the 
same  children." 

But  how^  was  this  wondeful  transformation  eifected? 
What  do  Pestalozzi's  words  really  mean  ?  Let  us  pause 
for  a  moment  to  consider  them.  Here  is  a  man  who,  in 
presence  of  ignorance,  obstinacy,  dirt,  brutality,  and 
vice — enemies  that  will  destroy  him  unless  he  can  des- 
troy <Aew— opposes  to  them  the  unresistible  might  of 
weakness,  or  what  appears  such,  and  fights  them  with 
his  heart/ 

Let  ail  teachers  ponder  over  the  fact,  and  remember 
that  this  weapon,"  too  frequently  forgotten,  and  there- 
fore unforged  in  our  trainmg  colleges,  is  an  indispensible 
requisite  to  their  equipment.  Wanting  this,  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  literary  certificates — even  tlie  diplomas  of 
the  College  of  Preceptors — will  be  unavailing.  With  it, 
the  teacher,  poorly  furnished  in  other  respects  (think  of 


234  PESTALOZZI. 

Pestalozzi's  literary  qualifications  ! ),  may  work  wonders, 
compared  with  which  the  so-called  magician's  are  mere 
child's  play.  The  t[rst  lesson,  then,  that  we  learn  from 
Pestalozzi  is,  that  the  teacher  must  have  a  heart — an  ap- 
parently simple  but  really  profound  discovery,  to  which 
we  cannot  attach  too  much  importance. 

But  Pestalozzi's  own  heart  was  not  merely  a  statical 
heart — a  heart  furnished  with  capabilities  for  action,  but 
not  acting;  it  was  a  dynamical  heart — a  heart  which  was 
constantly  at  work,  and  vitalized  the  system.  Let  us 
see  how  it  worked. 

"  I  was  obliged,"  he  says,  "  unceasingly  to  be  every- 
thing to  my  children.  I  was  alone  with  them  from  morn- 
ing to  night.  It  was  from  my  hand  that  they  received 
wiiatever  could  be  of  service  both  to  their  bodies  and 
minds.  All  succor,  all  consolation,  all  instruction  came  to 
them  immediately  from  myself.  Their  hands  were  in  my 
hand;  my  eyes  were  fixed  on  theirs,  my  tears  mingled 
with  theirs,  my  smiles  encountered  theirs,  my  soup  was 
their  soup,  my  drink  was  their  drink.  I  had  around  me 
neither  family,  friends,  nor  servants;  I  had  only  them.  I 
was  with  them  when  they  were  in  health,  by  their  side 
when  they  were  ill.  I  slept  in  their  midst.  I  was  the  last 
to  go  to  bed,  the  first  to  rise  in  the  morning.  When  we 
were  in  bed,  I  used  to  pray  with  them  and  talk  to  them 
till  they  went  to  sleep.     They  wished  me  to  do  so." 

This  active,  practical,  self  sacrificing  love,  beaming 
on  the  frozen  hearts  of  the  children,  by  degrees  melted 
and  animated  them.  But  it  was  only  by  degrees.  Pes- 
talozzi was  at  first  disappointed.  He  had  expected  too 
much,  and  had  formed  no  plan  of  action.  lie  even  rath- 
er prided  himself  upon  his  want  of  plan. 


HIS  THEORY    OF    MORAL    EDUCATION.  235 

"I  knew,"  lie  says,  "no  system,  no  method,  no  art 
but  that  which  rested  on  the  simple  consequences  of  the 
firm  belief  of  the  children  in  my  love  towards  them.  I 
wished  to  know  no  other." 

Before  long,  however,  he  began  to  see  that  the  re- 
sponse which  the  movement  of  his  heart  towards  theirs 
called  forth  was  rather  a  response  of  his  personal  efforts, 
than  one  dictated  by  their  own  will  and  conscience.  It 
excited  action,  but  not  spontaneous,  independent  action, 
Tliis  did  not  satisfy  him.  He  wished  to  make  them  act 
from  strictly  moral  motives. 

Gradually,  then,  Pestalozzi  advanced  to  the  main 
principles  of  his  system  of  moral  education — that  virtue, 
to  be  worth  anything,  must  be  practical;  that  it  must 
consist  not  merely  in  knowing  what  is  right,  but  in  do- 
ing it;  that  even  knowing  what  is  right  does- not  come 
from  the  exposition  of  dogmatic  precepts,  but  from  the 
convictions  of  the  conscience;  and  that,  therefore, both 
knowing  and  doing  rest  ultimately  on  the  enlightenment 
of  the  conscience  through  the  exercise  of  the  intellect. 

He  endeavored,  in  the  first  place,  to  awaken  the  moral 
sense — to  make  the  children  conscious  of  their  moral 
powers,  and  to  accomplish  his  object,  not  by  preaching 
to  them,  though  he  sometimes  did  this,  but  by  calling 
these  powers  into  exercise.  He  gave  them,  as  he  tells 
us,  few  explanations.  He  taught  them  dogmatically 
neither  morality  nor  religion.  He  wished  them  to  be 
both  moral  and  religious;  but  he  conceived  that  it  was 
not  possible  to  make  them  so  by  verbal  precept,  by  word 
of  command,  nor  by  forcing  them  to  commit  to  memory 
formularies  which  did  not  represent  their  own  convic- 
tions.    He  did  not  wish  them  to  say  they  believed,  be- 


^ 


236  PESTALOZZI. 

fore  they  believed.  He  appealed  to  what  was  divine  in 
their  hearts,  implanted  there  by  the  Supreme  Creator; 
and  having  brought  it  out  into  consciousness,  called  on 
them  to  exhibit  it  in  action.  "  When,"  he  says,  "the 
children  were  perfectly  still,  so  that  you  might  hear  a 
pin  drop,  I  said  to  them,  '  Don't  you  feel  yourselves 
more  reasonable  and  more  happy  now  than  when  you  are 
making  a  disorderly  noise  ?"  When  they  clung  round 
ray  neck  and  called  me  their  father,  I  would  say,  '  Chil- 
dren, could  you  deceive  your  father  ?  Could  you,  after 
embracing  me  thus,  do  behind  ray  back  what  you  know 
I  disapprove  of  ?'  And  when  we  were  speaking  about 
the  misery  of  our  country,  and  they  felt  the  happiness 
of  their  own  lot,  I  used  to  say,  '  How  good  God  is,  to 
make  the  heart  of  man  pitiful  and  compassionate.'  "  At 
other  times,  after  telling  them  of  the  desolation  of  some 
family  in  the  neighborhood,  he  would  ask  them  whether 
they  were  willing  to  sacrifice  a  portion  of  their  own 
food  to  feed  the  starving  children  of  that  family  ? 

These  instances  will  suffice  to  show  generally  what 
Pestalozzi  meant  by  moral  education,  and  how  he  oper- 
ated on  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  the  children.  We 
see  that,  instead  of  feeding  their  imagination  with  pict- 
ures of  virtue  beyond  and  above  their  sphere,  he  called 
on  them  to  exercise  those  within  their  reach.  He  knew 
what  their  ordinary  family  life  had  been,  and  he  wished 
to  prepare  them  for  something  better  and  nobler;  but 
he  felt  that  this  could  only  be  accomplished  by  making 
them,  while  members  of  his  family,  consciously  appre- 
ciate what  was  right  and  desire  to  do  it. 

Here  then,  in  moral  and,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  in 
intellectual  education,  Pestalozzi  proceeded   from  the 


;-* 


FROM    THE    CONCRETE    TO   THE    AHSTRACT.  23Y 

near,  the  practical,  the  actual — to  the  remote,  the  ab- 
stract, the  ideal.  It  was  on  the  foundation  of  what  the 
children  were,  and  could  become,  iji  the  sphere  they 
occupied,  that  he  built  up  their  moral  education. 

But  he  conceived — and,  I  think,  justly — that  their 
intellectual  training  was  to  be  looked  on  as  part  of  their  M- 
raoral  training.  Whatever  increases  our  knowledge  of 
things  as  they  are,  leads  to  the  appreciation  of  tlie 
truth;  for  truth,  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  terra,  is  this 
knowledge.  But  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  as  re- 
quiring mental  effort,  and  therefore  exercising  the  active 
powers,  necessarily  increases  the  capacity  to  form  judg- 
ments on  moral  questions;  so,  that,  in  proportion  as  you" 
cultivate  the  will,  the  affections,  and  the  conscience, 
with  a  view  to  independent  action,  you  must  cultivate 
the  intellect,  which  is  to  impose  the  proper  limits  on  that 
in<lependence;  and  on  the  other  hand,  in  proportion  as 
you  cultivate  the  intellect,  you  must  train  the  moral 
powers  which  are  to  carry  its  decisions  into  effect. 
Moral  and  intellectual  education  must  consequently,  in 
the  formation  of  the  human  being,  proceed  together, 
the  one  stimulating  and  maintaining  the  action  of  the 
other.  Pestalozzi,  therefore,  instructed  as  well  as  edu- 
cated; and  indeed  educated  by  means  of  instruction. 
In  carrying  out  this  object,  he  adopted  the  general  prin- 
ciple I  before  stated.  He  proceeded  from  the  near,  the 
practical,  the  actual,  to  the  remote,  the  abstract,  and 
the  ideal. 

We  shall  see  his  theoretical  views  on  this  point  in  a 
few  quotations  from  a  work  which  he  wrote  some  years 
before,  entitled  "  The  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit^  He 
says: — 


238  PESTALOZZI. 

"  Nature  develops  all  the  human  faculties  by  practice,  and 
their  growth  depends  on  their  exercise." 

"The  circle  of  knowledge  commences  close  around  a  man, 
and  thence  extends  concentrically." 

"  Force  not  the  faculties  of  children  into  the  remote  paths  of 
knowledge,  until  they  have  gained  strength  by  exercise  on  things 
that  are  near  them.'' 

"  There  is  in  Nature  an  order  and  march  of  development.  If 
you  disturb  or  interfere  with  it,  you  mar  the  peace  and  harmony 
of  the  mind.  And  this  you  do,  if,  before  you  have  formed  the 
mind  by  the  progressive  knowledge  of  the  realities  of  life,  you 
fling  it  into  the  labyrinth  of  words,  and  make  them  the  basis  of 
development." 

"  The  artificial  march  of  the  ordinary  school,  anticipating  the 
order  of  Nature,  which  proceeds  without  anxiety  and  without 
haste,  inverts  this  order  by  placing  words  first,  and  thus  secures 
a  deceitful  appearance  of  success  at  tlie  expense  of  natural  and 
safe  development." 

In  these  few  sentences  we  recognize  all  that  is  most 
characteristic  in  the  educational  principles  of  Pesta- 
lozzi. 

I  will  put  them  into  another  form: — 

(1)  There  is  a  natural  order  in  which  the  powers  of 
the  human  being  develop  or  unfold  themselves. 

(2)  We  must  study  and  understand  this  order  of  Na- 
ture, if  we  would  aid,  and  not  disturb,  the  develop- 
ment. 

(3)  We  aid  the  development,  and  consequently  pro- 
mote the  growth  of  the  faculties  concerned  in  it,  when 
we  call  them  into  exercise. 

(4)  Nature  exercises  the  faculties  of  children  on  the 
realities  of  life — on  the  near,  the  present,  the  actual. 

(5)  If  we  would  promote  that  exercise  of  the  faculties 
which  constitutes  development  and  ends  in  growth,  we 


SOUND    PRINCIPLES,   IMPERFECT    APPLICATION.       239 

also,  as  teachers,  must,  in  the  case  of  children,  direct 
them  to  the  realities  of  life — to  the  things  which  come  in 
contact  with  them,  which  concern  their  immediate  in- 
terests, feelings,  and  thoughts. 

(6)  Within  this  area  of  personal  experience  we  must 
confine  them,  until,  by  assiduous,  practical  exercise  in  it, 
their  powers  are  strengthened,  and  they  are  prepared  to 
advance  to  the  next  concentric  circle,  and  then  to  the 
next,  and  so  on,  in  unbroken  succession. 

(7)  In  the  order  of  Nature,  things  go  before  words, 
the  realities  before  the  symbols,  the  substance  before 
shadow.  We  cannot,  without  disturbing  the  harmonious 
order  of  the  development,  invert  this  order.  If  we  do 
so,  we  take  the  traveller  out  of  the  open  sunlit  high-road, 
and  plunge  him  into  an  obscure  labyrinth,  where  he  gets 
entangled  and  bewildered,  and  loses  his  way. 

These  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  Pestalozzi's 
theory  of  intellectual  as  well  as  moral  education,  and  I 
need  hardly  say  that  they  resolve  themselves  into  the 
principles  of  human  natiire. 

But  we  next  inquire,  How  did  he  apply  them  ?  What 
was  his  method  ?  These  questions  are  somewhat  em- 
barrassing, and,  if  strictly  pressed,  must  be  answered  by 
saying  that  he  often  applied  them  very  imperfectly  and 
inconsistently,  and  that  his  method  for  the  most  part 
consisted  in  having  none  at  all.  The  fact  is,  that  the 
unrivalled  incapacity  for  governing  men  and  external 
things,  to  which  he  confessed,  extended  itself  also  to  the 
inner  region  of  his  understanding.  He  could  no  more 
govern  his  conceptions  than  the  circumstances  around 
him.  The  resulting  action,  then,  was  wanting  in  order 
and  proportion.     It  was  the  action  of  a  man  set  upon 


240  PESTAXOZZI. 

bringing  out  the  powers  of  those  he  influenced,  but  ap- 
parently almost  indifferent  to  what  became  of  the 
results.  His  notion  of  education  as  development  was 
clear,  but  he  scarcely  conceived  of  it  as  also  training 
and  discipline.  Provided  that  he  could  secure  a  vivid 
interest  in  his  lesson,  and  see  the  response  to  his  efforts 
in  the  kindling  eyes  and  animated  countenances  of  his 
pupils,  he  was  satisfied.  He  took  it  for  granted  that 
what  was  so  eagerly  received  would  be  certainly  re- 
tained, and  therefore  never  thought  of  repeating  the 
lesson,  nor  of  examining  the  product.  He  was  so  earn- 
estly intent  upon  going  ahead,  that  he  scarcely  looked 
back  to  see  who  were  following;  and  to  his  enormous 
zeal  for  the  good  of  the  whole,  often  sacrificed  the  inter- 
ests of  individuals.  This  zeal  was  without  discretion. 
He  forgot  what  he  might  have  learned  from  Rousseau — 
that  a  teacher  who  is  master  of  his  art  frequently  ad- 
vances most  surely  by  standing  still,  and  does  most  by 
doing  nothing.  In  the  matter  of  words,  moreover,  his 
practice  was  often  directly  opposed  to  bis  principles. 
He  would  give  lists  of  words  to  be  repeated  after  him, 
or  learnt  by  heart,  which  represented  nothing  real  in  the 
experience  of  the  pupils.  In  various  other  ways  he 
manifested  a  strange  inconsistency. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  these  drawbacks,  if  we  look  upon  the 
teacher  as  a  man  whose  especial  function  it  is,  to  use  an 
illustration  from  Socrates,  to  be,  as  it  were,  the  ac- 
coucheur of  the  mind,  to  bring  it  out  into  the  sunlight 
of  life,  to  rouse  its  dormant  powers,  and  make  it  con- 
scious of  their  possession,  we  must  assign  to  Pestalozzi 
a  vei'y  high  rank  among  teachers. 

It  was  this  remarkable  instinct  for  developing  the  fac- 


A   CARDINAL   PEINCIPLE.  241 

ulties  of  his  pupils  that  formed  his  main  characteristic 
as  a  teacher.  Herein  lay  his  great  strength.  To  set  the 
intellectual  machinery  in  motion — to  make  it  work,  and 
keep  it  working;  that  was  the  sole  object  at  which  he 
aimed:  of  all  the  rest  he  took  little  account.  If  he  had 
any  method,  this  was  its  most  important  element.  But, 
in  carrying  it  out,  he  relied  upon  a  principle  which  must 
be  insisted  on  as  cardinal  and  essential  in  education.  He 
secured  the  thorough  interest  of  his  pupils  in  the  lesson,  and  mainly 
through  their  own  direct  share  in  it.  By  his  influence  up- 
on them  he  got  them  to  concentrate  all  their  powers  upon 
it;  and  this  concentration,  involving  self-exei*cise,  in  turn, 
by  reaction,  augmented  the  interest;  and  the  result  was 
an  inseparable  association  of  the  act  of  learning  with 
pleasure  in  learning.  Whatever  else,  then,  Pestalozzi's 
teaching  lacked,  it  was  intensely  interesting  to  the  chil- 
dren, and  made  them  love  learning. 

Consistently  with  the  principles  quoted  from  the 
"  Evening  Hours  of  a  Hermit^''  and  with  the  practice  just 
described,  we  see  that  Pestalozzi's  conception  of  the 
teacher's  function  made  it  consist  pre-eminently  in  rous- 
ing the  pupil's  native  energies,  and  bringing  about  their 
eelf-development.  This  self-development  is  the  conse- 
quence of  the  self-activity  of  the  pu]»il's  own  mind — of 
the  experience  which  his  mind  goes  through  in  dealing 
with  the  matter  to  be  learned.  This  experience  must  be 
his  own;  by  no  other  experience  than  his  own  can  he  be 
educated  at  all.  The  education,  therefore,  that  he  gains 
is  self -education;  and  the  teacher  is  constituted  as  the 
stimulator  and  director  of  the  intellectual  processes  by  which  the 
learner  educates  himself.  This  I  hold  to  be  the  centJ'al 
principle  of  all  education — of  all  teaching;  and  although 
I 


242  PESTALOZZI. 

not  formally  enunciated  in  these  words  by  Pestalozzi,  it 
is  clearly  deducible  from  his  theory. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  estimate  the  ^reat  and  spe- 
cial service  which  Pestalozzi  did  to  education.  It  is  not 
his  speculative  theories,  nor  his  practice  (especially  the 
latter),  which  have  given  him  his  reputation — it  is  that 
he,  beyond  all  who  preceeded  him,  demanded  that  para- 
mount importance  should  be  attached  to  the  elementary 
stages  of  teaching.  "  His  differentia,''''  as  Mr.  Quick  justly 
remarks,  "is  rather  his  aim  than  his  method."  He  saw 
more  clearly  than  all  his  predecessors,  not  only  what 
was  needed,  but  how  the  need  was  to  be  supplied.  Ele- 
mentary education,  in  his  view,  means,  not  definite  in- 
struction in  special  subjects,  but  the  eliciting  of  the 
powers  of  the  child  as  preparative  to  definite  instruc- 
tion,— it  means  that  course  of  cultivation  which  the 
mind  of  every  child  ought  to  go  through,  in  order  to  se- 
cure the  all-sided  development  of  his  powers.  It  does 
not  mean  learning  to  read,  write,  and  cipher,  which  are 
matters  of  instruction,  but  the  exercises  which  should 
precede  them.  Viewed  more  generally,  it  is  that  as- 
siduous work  of  the  pupil's  mind  upon  facts,  as  the 
building  materials  of  knowledge,  by  which  they  are  to 
be  shaped  and  prepared  for  their  place  in  the  edifice. 
After  this  is  done,  but  not  before,  instruction  proper 
commences  its  systematic  work. 

This  principle  may  find  its  most  general  expression  as 
a  precept  for  the  teacher  thus: — Always  make  your  pupil 
begin  his  education  hy  dealing  with  concrete  things  and  facts, 
never  with  ahstractio7is  and  generalizations — such  as  definitions, 
rules,  and  propositions  couched  in  words.  Things  first,  after- 
wards words — particular  facts  first,   afterwards  general 


ELEMENTARY    EDUCATION,  243 

facts,  or  principles.  The  child  lias  eyes,  ears,  and 
fingers,  Avhich  he  can  employ  on  things  and  facts,  and 
gain  ideas — that  is,  knowledge — from  them.  Let  him, 
then,  thus  employ  them.  This  employment  constitutes 
his  elementary  education — the  education  which  makes 
him  conscious  of  his  powers,  forms  the  mind,  and  pre- 
pares it  for  its  after  work. 

We  now  see  what  Pestalozzi  meant  by  elementary 
education.  The  next  question  is,  how  he  proposed  to 
secure  it.  Let  us  hear  what  he  himself  says: — "  If  I 
look  back  and  ask  myself  what  I  have  really  done 
towards  the  improvement  of  elementary  education,  I 
find  that  in  recognizing  Observation  [Anschauung)  as  the 
absolute  basis  of  all  knowledge,  I  have  established  the 
first  and  most  important  principle  of  instruction;  and 
that,  setting  aside  all  particular  systems,  I  have  en- 
deavored to  discover  wliat  oixght  to  be  the  character  of 
instruction  itself,  and  what  are  the  fundamental  laws 
according  to  which  the  natural  education  of  the  human 
race  must  be  conducted."  In  another  place  he  says, 
"  Observation  is  the  absolute  basis  of  all  knowledge.  In 
other  words,  all  knowledge  must  proceed  from  observa- 
tion, and  must  admit  of  being  ti'aced  to  that  source." 

The  word  Anschauung^  which  we  translate  generally 
and  somewhat  vaguely  by  Observation,  corresponds 
rather  more  closely  to  our  word  Perception.  It  is  the 
mind's  looking  into,  or  intellectual  grasping  of,  a  thing, 
which  is  due  to  the  reaction  of  its  powers,  after  the 
passive  reception  of  impressions  or  sensations  from  it. 
We  see  a  thing  which  merely  flits  before  our  eyes,  but 
we  perceive  it  only  when  we  have  exhausted  the  action  of 
our  senses  upon  it,  when  we  have  dealt  with  it  by  the 


244  PESTALOZZl, 

whole  mind.  The  act  of  perception,  then,  is  the  act  by 
which  we  know  the  object.  If  we  use  the  term  Observa- 
tion in  this  comprehensive  sense,  it  may  be  taken  as 
equivalent  to  Anschauung. 

Observation,  then,  according  to  Pestalozzi  (and  Bacon 
had  said  the  same  thing  before  him),  is  the  absolute 
basis  of  all  knowledge,  and  is,  therefore,  the  prime  agent 
in  elementary  education.  It  is  around  this  theory,  as  a 
centre  of  gravity,  tliat  Pestalozzi's  system  revolves. 

The  demands  of  this  theory  can  only  be  satisfied  by 
educating  the  learner's  senses,  and  making  him,  by  their 
use,  an  accurate  observer — and  this  not  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  quickening  the  senses,  but  of  securing  clear 
and  definite  perceptions,  and  this  again  with  a  view  to 
lay  firmly  the  foundation  of  all  knowledge.  The  habit 
of  accurate  observation,  as  I  have  thus  defined  it,  is  not 
taught  by  Nature.  It  must  be  acquired  by  experience. 
Miss  Martineau  remarks: — "A  child,  does  not  catch  a 
gold  fish  in  water  at  the  first  trial,  however  good  his 
eyes  may  be,  and  however  clear  the  water.  Knowledge 
and  method  are  necessary  to  enable  him  to  take  what  is 
actually  before  his  eyes  and  under  his  hand;"  and  she 
adds,  "The  powers  of  observation  must  be  trained,  and 
habits  of  method  in  arranging  the  materials  presented 
to  the  eye  [and  the  other  sense-organs]  must  be  acquired 
before  the  student  possesses  the  requisites  for  under- 
standing what  he  contemplates."  * 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  show  in  detail  what  is 
meant  by  the  education  of  the  senses.  This  education 
consists   in  their  exercise — an  exercise  which  involves 

*  See  some  excellent  remarks  on  this  subject  in  Miss  Youman'3  essay 


EDUCATION    OF    THE    SENSES.  245 

the  development  of  all  the  elementary  powers  of  the 
learner.  Any  one  may  see  this  education  going  on  in 
the  games  nnd  employments  of  the  kindergarten,  and 
indeed  in  the  occupations  of  every  little  child  left  to 
himself.  It  is,  therefore,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the 
term,  self-education.  But  it  should  also  be  made  an 
object  of  direct  attention  and  study,  and  lessons  should 
be  given  for  the  express  purpose  of  securing  it.  The 
materials  for  such  lessons  are  of  course  abundant  on 
every  hand.  Earth,  sky,  and  sea,  the  dwelling-house, 
the  fields,  the  gardens,  the  streets,  the  river,  the  forest, 
supply  them  by  thotisiinds.  All  things  within  the  area 
of  the  visible,  the  audible,  and  the  tangible,  supply  the 
matter  for  such  object  lessons,  and  upon  these  concrete 
realities  the  sense  may  be  educated.  Drawing,  again, 
and  moulding  in  clay,  the  cutting  out  of  paper  forms, 
building  with  wooden  bricks  or  cubes  to  a  pattern,  are 
all  parts  of  the  education  of  the  senses,  and  at  the  same 
time,  exercises  for  the  improvement  of  the  observing 
powers.  Then,  again,  measuring  objects  with  a  foot 
measure,  weighing  them  in  scales  with  real  weights, 
gaining  the  power  of  estimating  the  dimensions  of 
bodies  by  the  eye,  and  their  weight  by  poising  them  in 
the  hand,  and  then  verifying  the  guesses  by  actual  trial 
— these,  too,  are  valuable  exercises  for  the  education  of 
the  senses.  It  is  needless  to  particularize  further,  but 
who  does  not  see  that  such  exercises  involve,  not 
merely  the  training  of  the  senses,  but  also  the  culture 
of  the  observing  powers  as  well  as  the  exercise  of  judg- 
ment, reasoning,  and  invention,  and  all  as  parts  of  ele- 

on  tlie  culture  of  the  observiug  powers  of  children  iii  Second  Book  of 
Botany.    New  York. 


246  PESTALOZZI. 

mentary    education?*     It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate 
their  value  and  importance. 

But  elementary  education,  rightly  understood,  ap- 
plies also  to  the  initiatory  stage  of  all  definite  instruc- 
tion. If  we  accept  Pestalozzi's  doctrine,  that  all 
education  must  begin  with  the  near,  the  actual,  the  real, 
the  concrete,  we  must  not  begin  any  subject  whatever, 
in  the  case  of  children,  with  the  remote,  the  abstract, 
and  the  ideal — that  is,  never  with  definitions,  generali- 
ties, or  rules;  which,  as  far  as  their  experience  is  con- 
cerned, all  belong  to  this  category.  In  teaching  Physics, 
then,  we  must  begin  with  the  phenomena  themselves; 
in  teaching  Magnetism,  for  instance,  with  the  child's 
actual  experience  of  the  mutual  attraction  of  the  mag- 
net and  the  steel  bar;  Arithmetic  must  begin  with 
counting  and  grouping  marbles,  peas,  etc.,  not  with  ab- 
stract numbers;  Geometry,  not  with  proj^ositions  and 
theorems,  but  with  observing  the  forms  of  solid  cubes, 
spheres,  etc.;  Geography,  not  with  excursions  into  un- 
known regions,  but  with  the  schoolroom,  the  house,  etc., 
thence  proceeding  concentrically;  Language,  too,  with 
observing  words  and  sentences  as  facts  to  be  compared 
together,  classified,  and  generalized  by  the  learner  him- 
self. In  all  these  cases  the  same  principle  applies.  The 
learner  must  first  gain  personal  experience  in  the  area 
of  the  near  and  the  real,  in  which  he  can  exercise  his 
own  powers;  this  area  thus  becomes  the  known  which  is 
to  interpret  the  unknown,  and  thus  the  principle  is 
established  that  the  learner  educates  hiniself  under  the 
stimulation  and  direction  of  the  educator. 

*  I  beg  very  strongly  to  recommend  to  all  teachers,  and  to  mothers  who 
teach  their  children,  a  most  valuable  little  book,  written  by  the  late 
Horace  Grant,  Exercises  for  the  Improvement  of  the  Senses.    London. 


diestekweg's  distinctions.  247 

You  are  now,  I  presume,  aware  of  what  Pestalozzi 
means  by  elementary  education;  and  you  see  that  it 
resolves  itself  into  the  education  which  the  learner  gives 
himself  by  exercising  his  own  powers  of  observation  and 
experiment.  The  method  of  elementary  education,  is, 
therefore,  the  child's  own  natural  method  of  gaining 
knowledge,  guided  and  superintended  by  the  formal 
teacher. 

This  method  has  been,  by  Diesterweg,  an  eminent 
German  disciple  of  Pestalozzi,  strongly  distinguished 
from  what  he  calls  the  Scientific  method — that  which  is 
employed  in  higher  instruction,  in  universities  and  col- 
leges, and  is  suitable  for  learners  whose  minds  are 
already  developed  and  trained.  The  Elementary  method, 
he  says,  is  inductive,  analytic,  inventive  (or  heuristic, 
from  EvpidKGo,  I  find  out),  developing.  It  begins  with 
individual  things  or  facts,  lays  these  as  the  foundation, 
and  proceeds  afterwards  to  general  facts  or  principles. 
The  Scientific  method,  on  the  other  hand,  is  deductive, 
synthetic,  dogmatic,  and  didactic.  It  begins  with  defi- 
nitions, general  propositions,  and  axioms,  and  proceeds 
downwards  to  the  individual  facts  on  which  they  are 
founded. 

I  will  give  the  substance  of  his  further  remarks  on  the 
subject. 

In  learning  by  the  Eleinentary  method,  we  begin  with 
individual  things — facts  or  objects.  From  these  we 
gain  definite  ideas,  ideas  naturally  related  to  the  condi- 
tion of  our  powers,  or  of  our  knowledge,  as  being  the 
result  of  our  own  personal  experience.  Such  knowl- 
edge, as  the  product  of  our  own  efforts,  is  ours,  in  a 
sense  in  which  no  knowleds:e  of  others  can  ever  become 


248  PESTALOZZI. 

ours;  and,  being  ours,  serves  as  the  solid  basis  of  the 
judgment  and  inductions  that  we  are  able  to  I'orra, — the 
iTiethod  is  inductive  because  it  begins  with  individual 
facts. 

The  Scientific  method,  on  the  other  hand,  is  deductive, 
because  it  begins  with  general  principles,  definitions, 
axioms,  formulae,  etc.;  that  is  to  say,  with  deductive 
propositions  founded  on  facts  which  the  learner  is  after- 
wards to  know,  not  with  facts  which  he  already  knows. 
The  definitions,  etc.,  are  constructed  for  him,  not  by 
him.  They  are  the  ready-made  results  of  the  explora- 
tion of  others,  not  the  gains  of  his  own.  The  deductive 
method  proceeds  from  the  summit  to  the  foundation, 
from  the  unknown  to  the  known;  the  inductive,  from 
the  foundation  to  the  summit,  from  the  known  to  the 
uidviiown. 

The  mind  dealing  with  individual  things,  and  seeking 
to  know  them,  has  no  choice  but  to  subject  them  to 
mental  analysis.  Every  individual  thing  is  an  aggregate 
of  elements,  which  can  oidy  be  known  by  disintegration 
of  the  compound.  Nature  presents  us  with  no  element 
whatever  alone  and  simple.  The  Elementary  method, 
therefore,  which  requires  the  learner  to  perform  this 
disintegration,  is  analytic.  In  other  words,  as  resting  on 
observation  and  experiment,  it  is  the  method  of  investi- 
gation. 

The  Scientific  method,  on  the  other  hand,  is  synthetic. 
It  performs  the  analysis  for  the  learner,  and  hands  over 
to  him  the  results.  It  directs  him  to  re-construct  some- 
thing, the  form  of  which  lie  has  not  seen,  and  tells  him 
at  every  moment  where  and  how  he  is  to  place  the  ma- 
terials.    He  does  not  necessarily   know  what  he  is  con- 


ELEMENTARY    VS.    SCIENTIFIC    METHOD.  249 

strncting  until  the  complete  form  is  before  him.  He 
siitisties  the  demands  of  tlie  method,  if  he  obeys  the  di- 
rections given  him.  He  is  not  required  to  observe  and 
experiment — i.  e.,  to  investigate  lor  liimself. 

The  Elementary  method  is  inventive  (heuristic).  It 
places  the  learner  on  the  path  of  discovery,  and  by  en- 
couraging spontaneity  and  independence,  gives  free 
scope  for  the  exercise  of  all  his  powers.  It  suggests  to 
him  new  combinations  of  ideas  already  acquired,  and  the 
solution  of  difficulties  which  come  in  his  way. 

The  spirit  of  the  Scientific  method  is  opposed  to  invention. 
It  didactically  furnishes  ready-made  matter  which  is  to 
be  received,  not  questioned,  and  dogmatically  jjrescribes 
obedience  to  fixed  rules.  It  consequently  checks  spon- 
taneity, independence,  and  invention. 

The  Scientific  method,  then,  as  thus  interpreted, 
though  adapted  to  students  of  high  pretensions,  is  not 
adapted  to  those  who  are  acquiring  the  elements  of 
knowledge.  The  mistake,  for  the  discovery  of  which 
we  are  indebted  to  Pestalozzi,  is,  that  in  our  ordinary 
traditional  teaching  the  Scientific  method  has,  unfortun- 
ately, come  to  be  employed  in  our  schools  for  children 
where  the  Elementary  method  alone  is  natural  and  suit- 
ed to  the  circumstances  Pestalozzi's  eminent  claim  to 
our  gratitude  consists  in  the  service  he  lias  done  to  edu- 
cation by  "turning  the  traditional  car  of  school  routine 
quite  round,  and  setting  it  in  a  new  direction." 

I  conclude  the  exposition  I  have  given  of  Pestalozzi's 
fundamental  principles,  by  appending  a  summary  of 
them. 

(1)  The  principles  of  education  are  not  to  be  devised 
ah  extra;  they  are  to  be  sought  for  in  human  nature. 


250  fESTALOZZl. 

(2)  This  nature  is  nn  organic  nature — a  plexus  of  bod- 
ily, intellectual,  and  moral  capabilities,  ready  for  de- 
velopment, and  struggling  to  develop  themselves. 

(3)  The  education  conducted  by  a  formal  educator 
has  both  a  negative  and  a  })ositive  side.  The  negative 
function  of  the  educator  consists  in  removing  impedi- 
ments, so  as  to  afford  free  scope  for  the  learner's  self- 
development.  The  educator's  positive  function  is  to 
stimulate  the  learner  to  the  exercise  of  his  powers,  to 
furnish  materials  and  occasions  for  the  exercise,  and  to 
superintend  and  maintain  the  action   of  the  machinery. 

(4)  Self-development  begins  with  the  impressions  re- 
ceived by  the  mind  from  external  objects.  These  im- 
pressions (called  sensations),  when  the  mind  becomes 
conscious  of  them,  group  themselves  iuto  perceptions. 
These  are  registered  in  the  mind  as  concejDtions  or  ideas, 
and  constitute  that  elementary  knowledge  which  is  the 
basis  of  all  knowledge. 

(o)  Spontaneity  and  self-activity  are  the  necessary 
conditions  under  which  the  mind  educates  itself,  and 
gains  power  and  independence^. 

(6)  Pi-actical  aptness,  or  facuUv",  depends  more  on 
habits  gained  by  the  assiduous  oft-repeated  exercise  of 
the  learner's  active  powers,  than  on  knowledge  alone. 
Knowing  and  doing  (wissen  und  kennen)  must,  however, 
proceed  together.  The  chief  aim  of  all  education  (in- 
cludng  instruction)  is  the  development  of  the  learner's 
powers. 

(7)  All  education  (including  instruction)  must  be 
grounded  on  the  learner's  own  observation  [Anschatmng) 
at  first  hand — on  his  own  personal  experience  This  is 
the  true  basis  of  all  his  knowledge.     The  opposite  pro- 


HIS    FUNDAJffENTAL   PRINCIPLES.  25 1 

ceeding  leads  to  empty,  liollow,  delusive  Avord-knowledge. 
First  the  reality;  then  the  symbol;  first  the  thing,  then 
the  word ;  not  vice  versa. 

(8)  What  the  learner  has  gained  by  his  own  observa- 
tion [Amchammg),  and,  as  a  part  of  his  personal  exper- 
ience, is  incorporated  with  his  mind,  he  knows,  andean 
describe  or  explain  in  his  own  words.  His  competency 
to  do  this  is  the  measure  of  the  accuracy  of  his  observa- 
tion, and,  consequently,  of  his  knowledge. 

(9)  Personal  experience  necessitates  the  advance- 
ment of  the  learner's  mind  from  the  near  and  actual, 
with  which  he  is  in  contact,  and  which  he  can  deal  with 
himself,  to  the  more  remote;  therefore,  from  the  con- 
crete to  the  abstract,  from  particulars  to  general^,  from 
the  known  to  the  unknown.  This  is  the  method  of  ele- 
mentary education ;  the  opposite  proceeding — the  usual 
proceeding  of  our  traditional  teaching — leads  the  mind 
from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete,  from  generals  to  par- 
ticulars, from  the  unknown  to  the  known.  This  latter 
is  the  Scientific  method — a  method  suited  only  to  the 
advanced  learner,  who,  it  assumes,  is  already  trained  by 
the  Elementary  method. 


PESTALOZZI-ANALYSIS. 


I.  Pestdhzzi  not  well  knoicii .238 

1.  A  self-sacrificitic:  philanthropist 228 

2.  Au  unpractical  theorist 229 

3.  Absorbed  in  elementary  education  alone,., 230 

4.  Yet  the  most  influential  of  reformers 230 

II.  His  work  as  a  teacher. 231 

1.  Disadvantages: 

{a)  Begun  at  52,  without  training :.281 

(5)  In  an  uninhabitable  house 232 

{c)  Dirty,  diseased,  ignorant  children 233 

{(l)  Himself  paymaster,  servant,  house-maid 233 

2.  Keliancc!  for  conquest  on  a  loving  heart 233 

(a)  First  lesson  fvr  teachers 234 

3.  Virtue  from  enlightenment  of  conscience 235 

{a)  From  the  concrete  to  the  abstract. 237 

{h)  Intellectual  a  part  of  moral  training 237 

a'  "  Evening  Hours  of  a  Hermit." 238 

4.  Principles  of  his  teaching. 238 

(rt)  Powers  develop  in  a  natural  order. .238 

{h)    This  order  to  l^e  known  and  followed 238 

(c)  We  develop  faculties  by  exercising  them. 238 

(d)  Nature  exercises  them  on  realities .238 

{c)    We  must  exercise  them  on  realities 238 

(/)  From  this  experience,  concentric  circles... 239 

(g)   Things  before  words,  realities  before  symbols.. _239 

5.  His  application  of  these  principles 239 

{a)  Imperfect  and  inconsistent. 239 

{h)  Yet  he  ranks  high  among  teachers 240 

(X  He  developed  his  pupils'  faculties 240 

(5  He  secured  their  interest .241 

A  cardinal  iwinciple .241 

252 


ANALYSIS.  253 

y  The  central  principle  of  teacliing 241 

III.  Hi»  Service  to  Elsnientary  Education 243 

1.  His  great  principle:  facts  before  principles 242 

{a)  Primary  education  based  on  observation 243 

(6)  Hence  the  senses  must  be  educated 244 

a  Illustration  of  this  education. 245 

(c)   The  same  principle  applies  to  all  teaching 246 

(rf)  Distinguished  by  Diesterweg  from  Scientific 

method 247 

a   Induction  vs.  Deduction ...247 

fi  Analysis  vs.  Synthesis 248 

y   Inventiveness  vs.  Dogmatism 249 

lY.  His  fu ndamental  principles 249 

1.  Educational  principles  to  be  sought  in  human 

nature. . .  .• - .  249 

2.  Human  nature  is  organic ..249 

3.  The  teacher  removes  obstacles,  and  stimulates 250 

4.  Self-development  begins  with  perception 250 

5.  Spontaneity  and  self-activity  necessary  conditions    250 

6.  Aptness  depends  more  on  exercise  than  on  knowl- 

edge....  250 

7.  All  education  founded  on  experience 250 

8.  Power  of  explanation  the  measure  of  knowledge 251 

9.  Scientific  metliods  not  applicable  to  beginners 251 


FRCEBEL  AND  THE  KINDERGARTEN  SYSTEM 
OF  ELEMENTARY  EDUCATION.* 


Among  the  names  of  the  great  Reformers  of  Education, 
there  is  one  which  has  not  yet  received  that  honor  which 
it  deserves,  and  with  w^hich  I  firmly  believe  the  future 
will  invest  it.  It  is  that  of  Friedrich  Wilhelm  August 
Froebel.  His  claims  to  distinction  among  educators  are, 
however,  now  extensively  allowed  in  his  native  land,  as 
well  as  in  Switzerland,  Holland,  France,  the  United 
States,  and  partially  even  in  England.  These  claims 
are  numerous,  and  of  great  importance.  While  many 
otheis  have  labored  with  greater  or  less  success  at  the 
superstructure  of  Education,  to  him  l)elongs  the  special 
credit  of  having  earnestly  devoted  himself  to  the  founda- 
tion. While  others  have  taken  to  the  work  of  Educa- 
tion their  own  pre-conceived  notions  of  what  that  work 
should  be,  Fra'bel  stands  consistently  alone  in  seeking 
in  the  natui-e  of  the  child  the  laws  of  educational  action 
— in  ascertaining  from  the  child  liimself  how  we  are  to 
educate  him. 

Further,  Froebel  is  the  first  teacher  to  whom  it  has 
occurred  to  convert  what  is  usually  considered  the 
waste  steam  of  childish  activities  and  energies  into  the 
means  of  fruitful  action;  to  utilize  what  has  hitherto 
been  looked  upon  as  unworthy  of  notice;  and,  moreover, 
to  accomplish  this  object,  not  only  without   repressing 

*  A  Lecture  delivered  at  the  College  of  Preceptors,  on  the  25th  Feb.,  1874. 
254 


FlidOHKI,  S    rKKSONAK    HIS'I<»KY.  255 

tlie  natural  free  spirit  of  cliiklhoocl,  but  by  making  that 
free  spirit  the  very  instrument  of  his  purpose. 

In  laying  before  you  the  development  of  FriBbel's 
principles  of  elementary  education,  I  propose  to  connect 
with  this  development  a  sketch  of  the  personal  history 
of  the  man.  We  shall  in  this  way  learn  to  appreciate 
not  only  the  principles  at  which  he  ultimately  arrived, 
but  the  mental  process  which  led  to  them. 

Fra'bel  was  born  April  21,  1782,  at  Oberweissbach, 
in  the  principality  of  .Sc])warzburg-Rudolstadt.  His 
mother  died  when  he  was  so  young  that  he  never  even 
remembered  her;  and  he  was  left  to  the  care  of  an  igno- 
rant maid-of-all-work,  who  simply  provided  for  his 
bodily  wants.  His  father,  who  was  the  laborious  pastor 
of  several  parishes,  seems  to  have  been  solely  occupied 
with  his  duties,  and  to  have  given  no  concern  whatever 
to  the  development  of  the  child's  mind  and  character 
beyond  that  of  strictly  confining  him  within  doors,  lest 
he  should  come  to  harm  by  straying  away.  One  of  his 
principal  amusements,  he  tells  us,  consisted  in  watching 
from  the  window  some  workmen  who  were  repairing 
the  church,  and  he  remembered  long  afterwards  how  he 
earnestly  desired  to  lend  a  helping-hand  himself.  The 
instinct  of  construction,  for  the  exei'cise  of  which,  in 
his  system,  he  makes  ample  provision,  was  even  then 
stirring  within  him. 

As  years  went  on,  though  nothing  was  done  for  his 
education  by  others,  he  found  opportunities  for  satisfy- 
ing some  of  the  longings  of  his  soid,  by  wandering  in 
the  woods,  gathering  flowers,  listening  to  the  birds,  or 
to  the  wind  as  it  swayed  the  forest  trees,  watching  the 
movements  of  all  kinds  of  animals,  and  laying  up  in  his 


256  FRCEBEL    AND    THE    KINDERGARTEN. 

mind  the  various  impressions  then  produced,  as  a  store 
for  future  years.  He  was,  in  fact,  left  as  much  to  edu- 
cate himself  through  nature  as  was  the  Mary  Somerville 
of  later  times. 

Not  until  he  was  ten  years  of  age  did  he  receive  the 
slightest  regular  instruction.  He  was  then  sent  to 
school,  to  an  uncle  who  lived  in  the  neighborhood. 
This  man,  a  regular  driller  of  the  old,  time-honored 
stamp,  had  not  the  slightest  conception  of  the  inner 
nature  of  his  pupil,  and  seems  to  have  taken  no  pains 
whatever  to  discover  it.  He  pronounced  the  boy  to  be 
idle  (which,  froiri  liis  point  of  view,  was  quite  true)  and 
lazy  (which  certainly  was  not  true) — a  boy,  in  short, 
that  you  could  do  nothing  with.  And,  in  fact,  the 
teacher  did  nothing  with  his  pupil,  never  once  touched 
the  chords  of  his  inner  being,  or  brought  out  the  music 
they  were  fitted,  under  different  handling,  to  produce. 
Froebel  was  indeed,  at  that  time,  a  thoughtful,  dreamy 
child,  a  very  indifferent  student  of  books,  cordially 
hating  the  formal  lessons  with  which  he  was  crammed, 
and  never  so  happy  as  when  left  alone  with  his  great 
teacher  in  the  woods.  The  result  was,  that  he  left  school, 
after  four  years,  almost  as  ignorant  as  when  he  entered 
it,  carrying  with  him  as  the  produce  of  his  labor  a  con- 
siderable quantity  of  chaff,  but  very  little  corn.  The 
corn  consisted  in  some  elementary  notions  of  mathemat- 
ics, a  subject  which  interested  him  throughout  his  lite, 
and  which  he  brought  afterwards  to  bear  on  the  lessons 
of  the  Kindergarten. 

Circumstances,  which  had  proved  so  adverse  to  his 
development  in  his  school  experiences,  took  a  favorable 
turn  in  the  next  step  of  his  life.     It   was   necessary  for 


Clin.DIlOOl)    AND    YOLTI'Il.  257 

him  lo  earn  liis  hivad,  and  \vc  next  Hiid  liim  a  sort  of 
apprentice  to  a  woodsman  in  (lie  great  I'liuringian  for- 
est. Here,  as  lie  afterwards  tells  ns,  he  lived  some 
years  in  cordial  intercourse  with  nature  and  mathemat- 
ics, learning  even  then,  though  unconsciously,  from  the 
teacliing  he  received,  how  to  teach  others.  His  daily 
occupation  in  the  midst  of  trees  led  him  to  observe  the 
laws  of  nature,  and  to  recognize  union  and  unity  in  ap- 
parently contradictory  phenomena.  Here,  too,  he  re- 
flected on  his  previous  course  of  education;  and  formed 
very  decided  opinions  on  the  utter  worthlessness  of  the 
ordinary  school-teaching,  as  never  having  reached  what 
was  in  himself,  and,  therefore,  in  his  view,  failing  alto- 
gether to  be  a  true  culture  of  the  mind  and  of  the  man. 
His  life  as  a  forester,  which,  though  certainly  not  with- 
out great  influence  on  his  mental  character,  was  not  to 
be  his  final  destination,  ended  when  he  was  about 
eighteen  years  of  age. 

He  now  went  to  the  University  of  Jena,  where  he  at- 
tended lectures  on  natural  histoiy,  pliysics,  and  mathe- 
matics; but,  as  he  tells  us,  gained  little  from  them. 
This  result  was  obvioiisly  due  to  the  same  dreamy  specu- 
lative tendency  oC  mind  which  characterized  his  earlier 
school-life.  Instead  of  studying  hard,  he  speculated  on 
unity  and  diversity,  on  the  relation  of  the  whole  to  the 
parts,  of  the  parts  to  the  whole,  etc  ,  continually  striving- 
after  the  unattainable  and  neglecting  the  attainable. 
This  desultory  style  of  life  was  [)ut  an  end  to  by  the 
failure  of  means  to  staj^  at  the  University. 

For  the  next  few  years  he  tried  various  occupations, 
ever  restlessly  tossed  to  and  t'ro  by  the  demands  of  tiie 
outer  life,  and  not  less  distracted  by  the  consciousness 


258  FRCEBEL    AKD    THE    KIXDERGARTEN. 

that  bis  powers  had  not  yet  found  what  he  calls  their 
"centre  of  gravity."  At  last,  however,  they  found  it. 
While  engaged  in  an  architect's  office  at  Frankfort,  he 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  the  Rector  of  the  Model 
School,  a  man  named  Gruner.  Gruner  saw  the  capabil- 
ities of  Frcpbel,  and  detected  also  his  entire  want  of  in- 
terest in  the  work  that  he  was  doing;  and  one  day  sud- 
denly said  to  him:  "Give  up  your  architect's  business; 
you  will  do  nothing  at  it.  Be  a  teacher.  We  want  one 
now  in  the  school;  you  shall  have  the  place." 

This  was  the  turning  point  in  Froebel's  life.  He  ac- 
cepted the  engagement,  began  work  at  once,  and  tells  us 
that  the  first  time  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a 
class  of  30  or  40  boys,  he  felt  that  he  was  in  the  element 
that  he  had  missed  so  long — "  the  fish  was  in  the  water." 
He  was  inexpressibly  happy.  This  ecstasy  of  feeling, 
we  may  easily  imagine,  soon  subsided.  In  a  calmer 
mood  he  severely  questioned  himself  as  to  the  means  by 
which  he  was  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  his  new  position. 
He  found  the  answer,  he  says,  by  descending  into  him- 
self, and  listening  to  the  teachings  of  nature  respecting 
life,  mind,  and  being — lessons  already  theoretically 
knowm,  but  now  for  the  first  time,  correlated  with  prac- 
tice. "  My  hitherto  peculiar  development,  self-cultiva- 
tion, self-teacliing,"  he  says,  "  as  well  as  my  observation 
of  nature  and  of  life,  now  found  their  proper  place." 
But  he  keenly  felt,  at  the  same  time,  the  effects  of  his 
desultory  manner  of  study.  He  was  neither  instructed 
in  knowledge  nor  in  teaching,  but  he  now  resolved  to 
make  up  for  his  deficiencies  in  both  respects.  About 
this  time  he  met  with  some  of  Pestalozzi's  writings, 
which  so  deeply  impressed  him  that  he  determined  to  go 


HIS    SYSTEM   DEVELOPS.  259 

to  Yverdiim  and  study  Pestalozzism  on  the  spot.  He 
accomplished  his  purpose,  and  lived  and  worked  for  two 
years  with  Pestalozzi.  His  experience  at  Yverdum  im- 
pressed him  with  the  conviction  that  the  science  of  Edu- 
cation had  still  to  draw  (mt  from  Pestalozzi's  system 
those  fundamental  principles  which  Pestalozzi  himself 
did  not  comprehend.  "  And  therefore,"  says  Schmidt,* 
"this  general  disciple  of  Pestalozzi  supplemented  and 
completed  his  system  by  advancing  from  the  point 
which  Pestalozzi  had  reached  through  pressure  from 
without  to  the  innermost  conception  of  man,  and  arriv- 
ing at  the  thought  of  the  true  development  and  the  con- 
dition of  the  true  culture  of  mankind."  Feeling  still  his 
want  of  positive  knowledge,  Froeble  spent  the  next  two 
or  three  years  of  his  life  at  the  Universities  of  GOt- 
tingen  and  Berlin.  It  was  now,  while  he  was  for  the 
first  time  earnestly  engaged  in  study,  that  his  views  on 
Education  gradually  gained  consistency  and  form. 
"  Our  greatest  educators,"  he  says,  "  even  Pestalozzi 
himself  not  excepted,  appear  to  me  to  crudely,  empiri- 
cally, capriciously,  and,  therefore,  unscientifically  to 
allow  themselves  to  be  led  away  from  nature  and  nature's 
laws;  they  do  not  appear,  indeed,  to  recognize,  honor, 
and  cultivate  the  divinity  of  science." 

It  would  only  he  tedious  to  relate  the  various  pre- 
liminary experiences  by  which  Froebel — sometimes  with 
few,  sometimes  with  many  pupils — sometimes  under 
favorable,  at  other  times  under  unfavorable  circum- 
stances— pursued  his  course,  until  the  moment  when  at 
Blankenburg,  near  Rudolstadt,  he  established,  about 
the  year  1840,  the  school  to  which  he  first  gave  the 

♦  Qeschiclite  der  Pddagogik,  iv,  284. 


260  FRfEBEL    AND   THE    KINDERGARTEN. 

name  of  Kindergarten.  In  this  name  lie  wished  to  em- 
body two  of  his  favorite  theoretical  notions: — the  one, 
that  education,  as  culture,  has  to  do  with  cliildren  as 
h'iman  plants,  which  are  to  be  surrounded  with  circum- 
stances favorable  to  their  free  development,  and  to  be 
trained  by  means  suited  to  their  nature;  and  the  other, 
that  a  school  for  little  children  should  have  attached  to 
it  a  garden,  in  which  they  may  exercise  their  natural 
taste  for  flowi-rs,  and  be  not  only  the  observers  but  the 
cultivators  of  ]>lants.  Froebel,  as  well  as  his  disciples 
of  the  present  day,  protest  against  tlie  application  of 
the  name  School  to  the  Kindergarten,  which  is,  in  their 
view,  a  place  for  the  development  of  the  activities  and 
capabilities  of  children  before  the  usual  school  age 
begins.  The  Kindergarten  proper  is  iniended  for 
children  of  between  three  and  seven  years  of  age.  Its 
purpose  is  thus  briefly  indicated  by  himself: — "To  take 
the  oversight  of  children  before  they  are  ready  for 
school  life;  or  exert  an  influence  over  their  whole  being 
in  correspondenee  with  its  nature;  to  strengthen  their 
bodily  powers;  to  exercise  their  senses;  to  employ  the 
awakening  mind;  to  make  them  thoughtfully  acquaint- 
ed with  the  world  of  nature  and  of  man ;  to  guide  their 
heart  and  soul  in  a  right  direction,  and  lead  them  to 
the  Origin  of  all  life  and  to  union  with  Him." 

You  will  have  observed  already  that  in  this  pro- 
gramme there  is  no  mention  made  of  reading,  writing, 
and  arithmetic;  of  grammar,  geography,  and  history; 
of  rules,  precepts,  or  general  propositions;  not  a  word 
about  books,  nor  even  of  instruction  at  all  in  its  ordi- 
nary sense;  yet  you  will  also  have  observed  that  there 
is  ample  provision  for  actis'ity  and    energy  of  various 


THE    KINDERGARTEN    NOT    A    SfllOOL,  261 

kinds — activity  of  limbs,  activity  of  the  sens(!s,  activity 
of  the  mind,  heart,  and  of  the  religious  instinct.  It  is 
in  this  immense  field  of  natural  energies  that  the  Vvas- 
belian  idea  "lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being."  You  will 
further  see  that  the  carrying  out  of  this  programme  in- 
volves something  very  different  in  spirit  and  essence 
from  the  ordinary  course  of  an  P^nglish  infant  school,  to 
which  children  are  often  carried  merely  "  to  get  them 
out  of  the  way." 

Having  said  at  the  commencement  of  this  lecture  that 
Froebel  avS  an  educator  begins  at  the  very  beginning,  T 
ought  now  to  add  that  in  his  gi-eat  work,  "  On  the  Edu- 
cation of  Man,"  he  takes  into  consideration  the  circum- 
stances of  the  child  during  the  period  which  precedes 
the  Kindergarten  age,  and  gives  many  valuable  hints  to 
guide  the  mother,  who  is  Nature's  deputy  and  helper, 
for  the  first  three  years  of  its  life.  As,  however,  to 
describe  bis  views  and  plans  in  relation  to  that  period 
would  occupy  us  too  long,  I  confine  myself  to  the  Kind- 
ergarten age.  In  Froebel's  opinion,  the  mother  who  con- 
sults the  true  interests  of  her  child,  will,  when  he  is 
three  years  old,  give  him  up  to  the  governess  of  the 
Kindergarten.  In  this  respect  he  differed  from  Pesta- 
lozzi,  who  thought  that  the  mothei',  as  the  natural 
educator  of  the  child,  ought  to  retain  tJje  charge  of  him 
up  to  his  sixth  or  seventh  year.  It  is  easy  to  see  that 
if  this  opinion  be  acted  on,  the  education  of  the  child 
will  be  restricted  to  the  experience  of  the  family  circle. 
According  to  Froebel,  this  basis  is  too  narrow.  The 
family  circle  does  not  generally  afford  a  sufficient  scope 
for  the  development  of  those  activities  which,  in  their 
combination,    constitute    life.     A   system   of  education, 


262  FROEBEL    AND    THE    KINDERGARTEN. 

therefoi'e,  founded  on  this  narrow  basis,  does  not  really 
prepare  the  child  for  that  intercommunion  and  constant 
intercourse  with  his  fellownien  of  which  life,  broadly- 
interpreted,  consists.  Frojbel,  moreover,  doubts,  with 
much  reason,  whether  mothers  generally  are  qualified 
for  the  task  assigned  them  by  Pestalozzi,  and  points  out 
that,  if  they  are  not,  the  child  must  suffer  from  their  in- 
competence, even  if  he  lose  nothing  through  neglect 
occasioned  by  the  demands  of  the  household  upon  their 
time  and  strength.  He,  therefore,  insists  that  in  order 
to  furnish  children  with  opi)ortunities  for  displaying  and 
developing  all  their  natural  capal)ilities,  they  must  be 
brousrht  together  in  numbers.  The  mutual  action  and 
reaction  of  forces  and  activities  thus  necessitated  pre- 
sents, in  fact,  a  miniature  picture  of  the  larger  life  to 
which  they  are  destined.  The  passions,  emotions,  suf- 
ferings, desires  of  our  common  humanity,  have  here  both 
scope  and  occasion  for  their  fullest  manifestation;  while 
the  intellectual  powers,  under  the  stimulus  of  inexhausti- 
ble curiosity  and  of  aptitiide  for  imitation  and  invention, 
are  excited  to  constant  action.  At  the  same  time  the 
bodily  powers— hands,  feet,  muscles,  senses — under  the 
influence  and  impulse  of  companionship,  are  more  ac- 
tively exercised,  and  the  health  of  the  constitution 
thereby  promoted,  while  a  larger  and  better  opportunity 
is  supplied  for  learning  the  resources  of  the  mother- 
tongue.  The  Kindergarten,  therefoie,  for  its  full 
development,  requires  the  bringing  together  of  children 
in  numbers;  in  order  that  they  may  not  only  be  edu- 
cated, but  educate  themselves  and  each  other;  and 
requires,  moreover,  the  surrender,  on  the  mother's  part, 
of  the  charge  which  she  is,  as  a  rule,   unfitted  to  dis- 


HIS    CEN'JRAI,    TDKA.  263 

charge,  into  tl)e  hands  of  tliose  who  understand,  and  are 
trained  for,  the  work.  This,  then,  is  one  of  tlie  cases 
in  which  Fra^bel  takes  a  crude  and  unconditioned  notion 
oi"  Pestalozzi's,  and  org-juiizes  it  into  a  clear  and  consist- 
ent rule  of  action. 

But  we  are  still  only  standing  on  the  circumference 
of  Fncbel's  expansive  idea  of  education.  Let  us  now 
enter  within  the  circle,  and  make  our  way  to  the  centre. 
In  order  to  do  this  effectiially,  let  us  form  a  conception 
of  the  genesis  of  the  idea — an  idea  not  less  distinguished 
by  its  originality  as  a  theory  than  by  its  far-extending 
practical  issues. 

Let  us  imagine  to  ourselves  Frosbel,  after  profoundly 
studying  human  nature  in  general,  both  in  books  and 
life,  and  minutely  observing  and.  studying  the  nature  of 
children;  in  possession,  too,  of  a  large  theoretical  knowl- 
edge of  education,  as  a  means  for  making  the  best  of 
that  nature;  and,  at  the  same  time,  impressed  with  a 
sorrowful  conviction,  founded  partly  on  his  own  experi- 
ence, that  most  of  what  is  called  education,  is  not  only 
unnatural,  but  anti-natural,  as  failing  to  rench  the  inner 
being  of  the  child,  and  even  counteracting  and  thwart- 
ing its  spontaneous  development, — let  us,  I  say,  imagine 
Froebel,  thus  equipped  as  an  observer,  taking  his  place 
amidst  a  number  of  children  disporting  themselves  in 
the  open  air  without  any  check  upon  their  movements. 

After  looking  on  the  pleasant  scene  awhile,  he  breaks 
f>ut  into  a  soliloquy: — "What  exuberant  life!  What 
immeasurable  enjoyment !  What  unbounded  activity  ! 
What  an  evolution  of  physical  forces  !  What  a  har- 
mony between  the  inner  and  the  outer  life  !  What 
happiness,  health,  and  strength  !     Let  me  look  a  little 


264  FRfEBEL    AND   THE   KINDERGARTEN. 

closer.  What  are  t'licso  cliiKlrcn  doino?  Tlie  air  rinji^s 
musically  with  their  shouts  and  joj^ous  lauuhter.  Some 
are  running,  jumping,  or  bounding  along,  with  eyes 
like  the  eagle's  bent  upon  its  prey,  after  the  ball  which 
a  dexterous  hit  ol'  the  bat  sent  flying  among  thein; 
others  are  bending  down  towards  the  ring  filled  with 
marbles,  and  endeavoring  to  dislodge  them  from  their 
position;  others  aie  running  fi'iendly  races  with  their 
hoops;  others  again,  with  arms  laid  across  each  other's 
shoulders,  are  quietly  walking  and  talking  together  upon 
some  matter  in  which  they  evidently  have  a  common 
interest.  Their  natural  fun  gushes  out  from  eyes  and 
lij>s.  1  hear  what  they  say.  It  is  simply  expressed, 
amusing,  generally  intelligent,  and  ofteii  even  witty. 
But  there  is  a  small  group  of  children  yonder.  They 
seem  eagerly  intent  on  some  subject.  What  is  it?  I 
see  one  of  them  has  taken  a  fruit  from  his  pocket.  Tie 
is  showing  it  to  his  fellows.  They  look  at  it  and  admire 
it.  It  is  new  to  them.  They  wish  to  know  more  about 
it— to  handle,  smell,  and  taste  it.  The  owner  gives  it 
into  their  hands;  they  feel  and  smell,  but  do  not  tjiste 
it.  They  give  it  back  to  the  ownei',  his  right  to  it  being 
generally  admitted.  He  bites  it,  the  rest  looking 
eagerly  on  to  watch  the  result.  His  fact^  shows  that  he 
likes  the  taste;  his  eyes  grow  brighter  with  satisfaction. 
The  rest  desire  to  make  his  experience  their  own.  Pie 
sees  their  desire,  breaks  or  cuts  tlie  fruit  in  pieces,  which 
he  distributes  among  them.  He  adds  to  his  own  pleas- 
ure by  sharing  in  theirs.  Suddenly  a  loud  shout  from 
some  other  part  of  the  ground  atti'acts  the  attention  of 
the  group,  which  scatters  in  all  directions.  Let  me  now 
consider.      What  does  all  this  manifold  movement — this 


WHAT    HE    LEARNED    FROM    (  HILDREN's    PLAY.        265 

exliiliitinn    of    s])Oiitaneniis   energy — really    mean?     To 
me  it  seera>!  to  have  a  profound  meaning. 

It  means — 
'  "(1)  That  tliere  is  an  immense  external  development 
and  expansion  of  energy  of  various  kinds — ]ihysical, 
intellectual,  and  moral  Limbs,  senses,  lungs,  tongues, 
minds,  hearts,  are  all  at  work — all  co-operating  to  pi"0- 
duce  the  general  effect. 

"(2)  That  activity — doing — is  the  common  character- 
istic of  this  development  of  force. 

"(3)  That  spontaneity — absolute  freedom  from  out- 
ward control — appears  to  be  both  impulse  and  law  to 
the  activity. 

"(4)  That  the  harmonious  combination  and  interac- 
tion of  spontaneity  and  activity  constitnte  the  happi- 
ness which  is  apparent.  The  will  to  do  prompts  the 
doing;  the  doing  reacts  on  the  will. 

'  "(5)  That  the  resulting  happiness  is  independent  of 
the  absolute  value  of  the  exciting  cause.  A  bit  of  stick, 
a  stonCj  an  aj)[)le,  a  marble,  a  hoop,  a  top,  as  soon  as 
tiiey  become  objects  of  interest,  call  out  the  activities 
of  the  whole  being  quiti^  as  effectually  as  if  they  were 
matters  of  the  greatest  intrinsic  value.  It  is  the  action 
ui)on  them — the  doing  something  with  them — that  in- 
vests tbem  with  interest. 

"(6)  That  this  spontaneous  activity  generates  happi- 
ness because  the  result  is  gained  by  the  children's  own 
efforts,  without  external  interference.  What  they  do 
themselves  and  for  themselves,  involving  their  own 
personal  experience,  and  therefoie  exactly  measured  by 
their  own  capabilities,  interests  them.  What  another, 
of  trained  })owers,  standing  on   a  different  platform  of 


266  FRCEBEL    AND    THE    KIXDERGARTEN. 

advancement,  does/o;-  them,  is  comparatively  uninterest- 
ing. If  such  a  person,  from  whatever  motive,  inter- 
feres with  their  spontaneous  activit}^,  he  arrests  the 
movement  of  their  forces,  quenches  their  interest,  at 
least  for  the  moment;  and  they  resent  the  interference. 

"  Such,  then,  apjiear  to  be  manifold  meanings  of  the 
boundless  spontaneous  activity  that  I  witness.  But 
Avhat  name,  after  all,  must  I  give  to  the  totality  of  the 
phenomena  exhibited  before  me?  I  must  call  them 
Play.  Play,  then,  is  spontaneous  activity  ending  in  the 
satisfaction  of  the  natural  desire  of  the  child  for  ple^is- 
ure — for  happiness.  Play  is  the  natural,  the  appropriate 
business  and  occupation  of  the  child  left  to  his  own  resources. 
The  child  that  does  not  play,  is  not  a  perfect  child.  He 
wants  something — sense-organ,  limb,  or  generally  what 
we  imply  by  the  term  health — to  make  up  our  ideal  of 
a  child.  The  healthy  child  plays — plays  continually — 
cannot  but  play. 

"  But  has  this  instinct  for  play  no  dee})er  significance? 
Is  it  appointed  by  the  Supi'eme  Being  merely  to  fill  uj) 
time? — merely  to  form  an  occasion  for  fruitless  exer- 
cise?— merely  to  end  in  itself?  No  !  I  see  now  that  it 
is  the  constituted  means  for  the  unfolding  of  all  the 
child's  powers.  It  is  through  play  that  he  learns  the 
use  of  his  limbs,  of  all  his  bodily  organs,  and  with  this 
use  gains  health  and  strength.  Through  play  he  comes 
to  know  the  external  world,  the  pliysical  qualities  of 
the  objects  which  surround  him,  their  motions,  action, 
and  re-action  upon  each  other,  and  the  relation  of  these 
phenomena  to  himself ;  a  knowledge  which  forms  the 
basis  of  that  which  will  be  his  permanent  stock  for  life. 
Through   play,    involving   associateship   and  combined 


DEFINITION    OF   PT.AY.  267 

action,  he  begins  to  recognize  moral  relations,  to  feel 
that  he  cannot  live  for  himself  alone,  that  he  is  a  mem- 
ber of  a  community,  whose  rights  he  must  acknowledge 
if  his  own  are  to  be  acknowledged.  In  and  through 
])lay,  moreover,  he  learns  to  contrive  means  for  securing 
his  ends;  to  invent,  construct,  discover,  investigate,  to 
bring  by  imagination  tlie  remote  near,  and,  further,  to 
translate  the  language  of  facts  into  the  language  of 
words,  to  learn  the  conventionalities  of  his  mother- 
tongue.  Play,  then,  I  see,  is  the  means  by  which  the 
entire  being  of  the  child  develops  and  grows  into  power, 
a-nd,  therefore,  does  not  end  in  itself. 

"But  an  agency  which  effects  results  like  these,  is  an 
education  agency;  and  Piny,  therefore,  resolves  itself  into 
education;  education  which  is  independent  of  the  formal 
teacher,  which  the  child  virtually  gains  for  and  by  him- 
self. This,  then,  is  the  outcome  of  all  that  I  have  ob- 
served. The  child,  through  the  spontaneous  activity  of 
all  his  natural  forces,  is  really  developing  and  strength- 
ening them  for  future  use;  he  is  working  out  his  own 
education. 

"But  what  do  I,  who  am  constituted  by  the  demands 
of  society  as  the  formal  educator  of  these  children,  learn 
from  the  insight  I  have  thus  gained  into  their  nature  ? 
1  learn  this — that  I  must  educate  them  in  conformity 
with  that  nature.  I  must  continue,  not  supersede,  the 
course  already  begun;  my  own  course  must  be  based, 
upon  it.  I  must  recognize  and  adopt  the  principles  in- 
volved in  it,  and  frame  my  laws  of  action  accordingly. 
Above  all,  I  must  not  neutralize  and  deaden  that  spon- 
taneity which  is  the  mainspring  of  all  the  machinery;  I 
must  rather  encourage  it,  while  ever  opening  new  fields 


268  FlKKHEL    AXI)   THE    KIXDERGARTEN. 

for  its  exercise,  and  giving  it  new  directions.  Play, 
spontaneous  play,  is  the  education  of  little  children;  but 
it  is  not  tlie  wliole  of  their  education.  Their  life  is  not 
to  be  made  up  of  play.  Can  I  not  then  even  now  grad- 
ually transform  their  play  into  work,  but  work  which 
shall  look  like  play? — work  which  shall  originate  in  the 
same  or  similar  impulses,  and  exercise  the  same  energies 
as  I  see  employed  in  their  own  amusements  and  occupa- 
tions ?  Play,  however,  is  a  random,  desultory  education. 
It  lays  the  essential  basis;  but  it  does  not  raise  the 
superstructure.  It  requires  to  be  organized  for  this 
j)urpose,  but  so  organized  that  the  superstructure  shall 
be  strictly  related  and  conformed  to  the  original  lines 
of  the  foundation. 

^'' I  see  that  these  children  delight  in  movement; — they  are 
always  walking  or  running,  jumping,  hopping,  tossing 
their  limbs  about,  and,  moreover,  they  are  pleased  with 
rhythmical  movement,  I  can  contrive  motives  and 
means  for  the  saine  exercise  of  the  limbs,  which  shall 
result  in  increased  physical  jiower,  and  consequently  in 
health — shall  train  the  children  to  a  conscious  and 
measured  command  of  their  bodily  functions,  and  at  the 
same  time  be  accompanied  by  the  attraction  of  rhythmic- 
al sound  through  sons:  or  instrument. 

*■'  I  see  that  they  use  their  senses  ;  but  merely  at  the  acci- 
dental solicitation  of  surrounding  circumstances,  and 
therefore  imperfectly.  I  can  contrive  means  for  a  def- 
inite education  of  the  senses,  wliich  shall  result  in 
increased  quickness  of  vision,  hearing,  touch,  etc.  I  can 
train  the  purblind  eye  to  take  note  of  delicate  shades  of 
color,  the  dull  ear  to  appreciate  minute  differences  of 
sound. 


ORGANIZED    PLAY    IS    EDUCATION.  269 

'■^  I  see  that  they  observe  ;  but  their  observations  are  for 
the  most  part  transitory  and  indefinite,  and  often, 
therefore,  comparatively  imfriiitfuL  I  can  contrive 
means  for  concentrating  their  attention  by  exciting  curi- 
osity and  interest,  and  educate  them  in  tlie  art  of 
observing.  They  will  thus  gain  clear  and  definite  per- 
ceptions, bright  images  in  the  place  of  blurred  ones, 
will  learn  to  recognize  the  difference  between  complete 
and  incomplete  knowledge,  and  gradually  advance  from 
the  stage  of  merely  knowing  to  that  of  knowing  that 
they  know. 

"  I  see  that  they  invent  and  construct ;  but  often  awkwardly 
and  aimlessly.  I  can  avail  myself  of  this  instinct,  and 
open  to  it  a  definite  field  of  action,  I  shall  prompt  them 
to  invention,  and  train  them  in  the  art  of  construction. 
The  materials  I  shall  use  for  this  end  will  be  simple; 
but  in  combining  them  together  for  a  purpose,  they  will 
employ  not  only  their  knowledge  of  form,  but  their  im- 
agination of  the  capabilities  of  form.  In  various  ways 
I  shall  j^rompt  them  to  invent,  construct,  contrive,  imi- 
tate, and  in  doing  so  develop  their  nascent  taste  for 
symmetry  and  beauty. 

"  And  so  in  respect  to  other  domains  of  that  child- 
action  which  we  call  play,  I  see  that  I  can  make  these 
domains  also  my  own.  I  can  convert  children's  activi- 
ties, energies,  amusements,  occupations,  all  that  goes  by 
the  name  of  play,  into  instruments  for  my  purjjose,  and, 
therefore,  transform  play  into  work.  This  work  will  be 
education  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  The  conception 
of  it  as  such  I  have  gained  from  the  children  themselves. 
They  have  taught  me  how  I  am  to  teach  them." 

And  now  Froebel  descends  from  the  imaginary  plat- 


270  FRfKHKL    AXD   THE    KINDP:RGARTEN". 

t'unii  where  he  has  been  holding  forth  so  long.  I  have 
endeavored,  hi  wliat  lias  [)recedcd,  to  give  you  as  clear 
a  notion  as  I  could  of  the  genesis  of  his  root-idea;  and 
I  may  say,  in  passing,  that  it  is  well  for  you  that  I,  and 
not  Frcebel  himself,  have  been  the  expositor;  for  any- 
thing more  cloudy,  involved,  obscure,  and  mystical  than 
Frcebel's  own  style  of  vv'riting  can  hardly  be  conceived. 
It  has  been  my  task  to  keep  the  clouds  out  of  sight,  and 
admit  upon  the  scene  only  the  genial  light  which  breaks 
out  from  between  them. 

Having  thus  brought  before  you  what  I  may  call 
Froebel's  statical  theory  of  the  education  of  little  chil- 
dren of  from  three  to  seven  years  of  age,  I  now  pro- 
ceed to  describe  the  means  by  which  it  was  made 
dynamical — that  is,  exhibited  in  practice.  But  before  1 
do  so,  I  will  add  to  the  particulars  of  his  life,  that  after 
founding  the  Kindergarten  at  Blankenburg,  and  carry- 
ing it  on  for  some  years,  he  left  it  to  establish  and 
organize  others  in  various  parts  of  Germany,  and  at 
last  died  at  Liebenstein,  June  21,  1852.  Thus  passed 
away  a  man  of  remarkable  insight  into  human  nature, 
and  especially  into  children's  nature, — of  wonderful 
energy  of  character  when  once  roused  to  action, — of 
all-prevading  philanthropy — a  man,  I  repeat,  to  whom 
alone  is  due  the  fruitful  and  original  conception  of 
availing  himself,  as  a  teacher,  of  the  spontaneous  activi- 
ties of  children  as  the  means  of  their  formal  education, 
and,  therefore,  of  laying  on  this  foundation  the  super- 
struction  of  their  physical,  intellectual,  and   moral  life. 

And  now  I  must  endeavor  to  give  some  notice  of  the 
manner  in  which  Fra^bel  reduced  his  theory  to  practice. 
In  doing  this,  the  instances  I  bring   forward,  must  be 


THE  THEORY  IN  PRACTICE.  271 

considered  as  typical.  If  you  admit— and  you  can 
hardly  do  otherwise — the  reasonableness  of  the  theory, 
as  founded  on  the  nature  of  things,  you  can  hardly 
doubt  that  there  is  some  method  of  carrying  it  out. 
Now,  a  method  of  education  involves  many  processes, 
all  of  which  must  represent  more  or  less  the  principles 
which  form  the  basis  of  the  method.  It  is  quite  out  of 
my  power,  for  want  of  time,  to  describe  the  various 
processes  which  exhibit  to  us  the  little  child  pursuing 
his  education  by  walking  to  rhythmic  measure,  by  gym- 
nastic exercises  generally,  learning  songs  by  heart  and 
singing  them,  jiractising  his  senses  with  a  definite  pur- 
pose, observing  the  properties  of  objects,  counting,  get- 
ting notions  of  color  and  form,  drawing,  building  with 
cubical  blocks,  modelling  in  wax  or  clay,  braiding  slips 
of  various  colored  paper  after  a  pattern,  pricking  or 
cutting  forms  in  paper,  curving  wire  into  different 
shapes,  folding  a  sheet  of  paper  and  gaining  elementary 
notions  of  geometry,  learning  the  resources  of  the 
mother-tongue  by  hearing  and  relating  stories,  fables, 
etc.,  dramatizing,  guessing  liddles,  working  in  the  gar- 
den, etc.,  etc.  These  are  only  some  of  the  activities 
naturally  exhibited  by  young  children,  and  these  the 
teacher  of  young  children  is  to  employ  for  his  purpose. 
As,  however,  they  are  so  numerous,  I  may  well  be  ex- 
cused for  not  even  attempting  to  enter  minutely  into 
them.  But  there  is  one  series  of  objects  and  exercises 
therewith  connected,  expressly  devised  by  Frcebel  to 
teach  the  art  of  observing,  to  which,  as  being  typical, 
I  will  now  direct  your  attention.  He  calls  these  objects, 
which  are  gradually  and  in  orderly  succession  intro- 
duced to  the  child's  notice.    Gifts — a  pleasant    name. 


272  FEHiBEL    AND   THE    KINDERGARTEN. 

which  is,  liowever,  a  tiiere  accident  of  the  system:  they 
might  equally  well  be  called  by  any  other  name.  As 
inti'oductory  to  the  series,  a  ball  made  of  wool,  of  8ay 
of  scarlet  color,  is  placed  before  the  baby.  It  is  rolled 
along  before  him  on  the  tabic,  thrown  along  the  floor, 
tossed  into  the  air,  suspended  from  a  string,  and  used 
as  a  pendulum,  or  s|)un  round  on  its  axis,  or  made  to 
describe  a  circle  in  space,  etc.  It  is  then  given  into  his 
hand;  he  attempts  to  grasp  it,  fails;  tries  again,  suc- 
ceeds; rolls  it  along  the  floor  himself,  tries  to  throw  it, 
and  in  short,  exei'cises  every  power  he  has  upon  it,  al- 
ways pleased,  never  wearied  in  doing  something  or  other 
with  it.  This  is  play,  but  it  is  play  which  resolves  itself 
into  education.  He  is  gaining  notions  of  color,  form, 
motion,  action  and  re-action,  as  well  as  of  muscular 
sensibility.  And  all  the  while  the  teacher  associates 
w^ords  with  things  and  actions,  and  by  constantly  em- 
ploying words  in  their  proper  sense  and  in  the  immedi- 
ate presence  of  facts,  initiates  the  child  in  the  use  of 
his  mother-tongue.  Thus,  in  a  thousand  ways,  the  scar- 
let ball  furnishes  sensations  and  perceptions  for  the  sub- 
stratum of  the  mind,  and  suggests  fitting  language  to 
express  them;  and  even  the  baby  appears  before  us  as 
an  observer,  learning  the  projjerties  of  things  by  per- 
sonal experience. 

Then  comes  the  first  Gift.  It  consists  of  six  soft 
woolen  balls  of  six  different  colors,  three  primary  and 
three  secondary.  One  of  these  is  recognized  as  like, 
the  others  as  unlike,  the  ball  first  known.  The  laws  of 
similarity  and  discrimination  are  called  into  action; 
sensation  and  perception  grow  clearer  and  stronger.  I 
cannot  particularize   the   numberless  exercises  that  are 


THK    "gifts."  273 

to  be  got  out  of  tbe  various  combinations  of  these  six 
balls. 

The  second  Gift  consists  of  a  sphere,  cube,  and  cylin- 
der made  of  hard  wood.  What  was  a  ball  before,  is 
now  called  a  sphere.  The  different  material  gives  rise 
to  new  experiences;  a  sensation,  that  of  hardness,  for 
instance,  takes  the  i)lace  of  softness;  while  varieties  of 
form  suggest  resemblance  and  contrast.  Similar  ex- 
periences of  likeness  and  unlikeness  are  suggested  by 
the  behavior  of  these  different  objects.  The  easy  roll- 
ing of  the  sphere,  the  sliding  of  the  cube,  the  rolling 
as  well  as  sliding  of  the  cylinder,  illustrate  this  point. 
Then  the  examination  of  the  cube,  especially  its  sur- 
faces, edges,  and  angles,  which  any  child  can  observe 
for  himself,  suggest  new  sensations  and  their  resulting 
perceptions.  At  the  same  tim  e,  notions  of  space,  time, 
form,  motion,  relativity  in  general,  take  their  place  in 
the  mind,  as  the  unshaped  blocks  which,  when  fitly  com- 
pacted together,  will  lay  the  firm  foundation  of  the 
understanding.  These  elementary  notions,  as  the  very 
groundwork  of  mathematics,  will  be  seen  to  have  their 
use  as  time  goes  on. 

The  third  Gift  is  a  large  cube,  making  a  whole,  which 
is  divisible  into  eight  small  ones.  The  form  is  recog- 
nized as  that  of  the  cube  before  seen;  the  size  is  differ- 
ent. But  the  new  experiences  consist  in  notions  of 
relativity — of  the  whole  in  its  relation  to  the  parts,  of 
the  parts  in  their  relation  to  the  whole;  and  thus  the 
child  acquires  the  notion  and  the  names,  and  both  in 
immediate  connection  with  the  sensible  objects,  of 
halves,  quarters,  eighths,  and  of  how  many  of  the  small 
divisions  make  one  of  the  larger.     But  in  connection 


274  FKCEBEL    AND    THE    KIXDEKGAR  TEN. 

witli  the  third  Gift  a  new  faculty  is  called  forth — Imag- 
ination, and  with  it  the  instinct  of  construction  is 
awakened.  The  cubes  are  mentally  transformed  into 
blocks:  and  with  them  building  commences.  The  con- 
structive faculty  suggests  imitation,  but  rests  not  in 
imitation.  It  invents,  it  creates.  Those  eight  cubes, 
placed  in  a  certain  relation  to  each  other,  make  a  long 
seat,  or  a  seat  with  a  back,  or  a  throne  for  the  Queen; 
or  again,  a  cross,  a  doorway,  etc.  Thus  does  even  play 
exhibit  the  characteristics  of  art,  and  "  conforms  (to  use 
Bacon's  words)  the  outward  show  of  things  to  the 
desires  of  the  mind;"  and  thus  the  child,  as  I  said 
before,  not  merely  imitates,  but  creates.  And  here,  I 
may  remark,  that  the  mind  of  the  child  is  far  less  inter- 
ested in  that  which  another  mind  has  embodied  in  ready 
prepared  forms,  than  in  the  forms  which  he  conceives, 
and  gives  outward  expression  to,  himself.  He  wants  to 
employ  his  own  mind,  and  his  whole  mind,  upon  the 
object,  and  does  not  thank  you  for  attempting  to  deprive 
him  of  his  rights. 

The  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  Gifts  consist  of  the  cube 
variously  divided  into  solid  parallelopipeds,  or  brick- 
shaped  forms,  and  into  smaller  cubes  and  prisms.  Ob- 
servation is  called  on  with  increasing  strictness,  relativity 
appreciated,  and  the  opportunity  afforded  for  endless 
manifestations  of  constructiveness.  And  all  the  while 
impressions  are  forming  in  the  mind,  wliich,  in  due  time, 
will  bear  geometrical  fruits,  and  fruits,  too,  of  aesthetic 
culture.  The  dawning  sense  of  the  beautiful,  as  well  as 
of  the  true,  is  beginning  to  gain  consistency  and  power. 

I  cannot  further  dwell  on  the  numberless  modes  of 
manipulation  of   which   these   objects   are  capable,  nor 


OBJECTIONS    REFUTKD.  275 

enter   fiirtl)er    into   tho    groundwork    of   principles   on 
which  their  efficacy  depends. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  vaiious  objections  have  been 
made  to  Froebel's  method,  especially  by  those  whose 
ignorance  of  the  laws  of  mental  development  disqualifies 
them,  in  fact,  for  giving  an  opinion  on  it  at  all,  and  also 
by  others,  wliose  earnest  work  at  various  points  ot  the 
superstructure  so  absorbs  their  energies  that  they  have 
none  to  spare  for  considering  the  foundation.  But  even 
among  those  who  have  considered  the  working  of  mental 
laws,  though  in  many  cases  from  trie  standpoint  of  a 
favorite  theory,  there  are  some  who  still  doubt  and 
object.  I  will  attempt  to  deal  with  one  or  two  of  their 
objections.  Tt  is  said,  for  instance,  Avithout  proof,  that 
we  demand  too  much  from  little  children,  and,  with  the 
best  intentions,  take  them  out  of  their  depth.  This 
might  be  true,  no  doubt,  if  the  system  of  means  adopted 
had  any  other  basis  than  the  nature  of  the  children;  if 
we  attempted  theoretically,  and  without  regard  to  that 
nature,  to  determine  ourselves  what  they  can  and  what 
they  cannot  do;  but  when  we  constitute  spontaneity  as 
the  spring  of  action,  and  call  on  them  to  do  that,  and 
that  only,  which  they  can  do,  which  they  do  of  their 
own  accord  when  they  are  educating  themselves,  it  is 
clear  that  the  objection  falls  to  the  ground.  The  child 
who  teaches  himself,  never  can  go  out  of  his  depth;  the 
work  he  actually  does  is  that  which  he  has  strength  to 
do;  the  load  he  carries  cannot  but  be  fitted  to  the 
shoulders  that  bear  it,  for  he  has  gradually  accumulated 
its  contents  by  his  own  repeated  exertions.  This  in- 
creasing burden  is,  in  short,  the  index  and  result  of  his 
increasing  powers,  and  commensurate  with  them.     The 


276  FRCEBEL    AND   THE    KINDERGARTEN". 

objector  in  this  case,  in  order  to  gain  even  a  plausible 
foothold  for  his  objection,  must  first  overthrow  the  rad- 
ical principle,  that  the  activities,  amusements,  and  occu- 
pations of  the  child,  left  to  himself,  do  indeed  constitute 
his  earliest  education,  and  that  it  is  an  education  which 
he  virtually  gives  himself. 

Another  side  of  this  objection,  which  is  not  unfre- 
quently  presented  to  us,  derives  its  plausibility  from  the 
assumed  incapacity  of  children.  The  objector  points  to 
this  child  or  that,  and  denounces  him  as  stupid  and  in- 
capable. Can  the  objector,  however,  take  upon  himself 
to  declare  that  this  or  that  child  has  not  been  made 
stujDid  even  by  the  very  means  employed  to  teach  him  ? 
The  test,  however,  is  a  practical  one:  Can  the  child 
play?  If  he  can  play,  in  the  sense  which  I  have  given 
to  the  word,  he  cannot  be  stupid.  In  his  play  he  em- 
ploys the  very  faculties  which  are  required  for  his 
formal  education.  "  But  he  is  stupid  at  his  books."  If 
this  is  so,  then  the  logical  conclusion  is,  that  the  books 
have  made  him  stupid,  and  you,  the  objector,  veho  have 
misconceived  his  nature,  and  acted  in  direct  conti'adic- 
tion  to  it,  are  yourself  responsible  for  his  condition. 

"  But  he  has  no  memory.  He  cannot  learn  what  I 
tell  him  to  learn."  No  memory!  Cannot  learn!  Let  us 
put  that  to  the  test.  Ask  him  about  the  pleasant  holi- 
day a  month  ago,  when  he  went  nutting  in  the  woods. 
Does  he  remember  nothing  about  the  fresh  feel  of  the 
morning  air,  the  joyous  walk  to  the  wood,  the  sunshine 
which  streamed  about  his  path,  the  agreeable  compan- 
ions with  whom  he  chatted  on  the  way,  the  incidents  of 
the  expedition,  the  climb  up  the  trees,  the  bagging  of 
the  plunder?     Are  all  these  matters  clean  gone  out  of 


OBJECTIONS    REFUTED.  2  77 

his  niind?  *'0h  no,  be  remembers  things  like  these." 
Then  he  has  a  memory,  and,  a  remarkably  good  one. 
He  remembers,  because  he  was  interested;  and  if  you 
wish  him  to  remember  your  lessons,  you  must  make 
them  interesting.  He  will  certainly  learn  what  he  takes 
an  interest  in, 

I  need  not  deal  with  other  objections.  They  all 
resolve  themselves  into  the  category  of  ignorance  of  the 
nature  of  the  child.  When  public  opinion  shall  demand 
such  knowledge  from  teachers  as  the  essential  condition 
of  their  taking  in  hand  so  delicate  and  even  profound 
an  art  as  that  of  training  children,  all  these  objections 
will  cease  to  have  any  meaning. 

As  I  have  doubtless  appeared  throughout  this  lecture 
as  not  only  the  expositor  but  the  advocate  of  Froebel's 
principles,  it  is  only  right  to  say  that  this  has  arisen 
from  the  fact  that,  without  knowiug  it,  1  have  been 
myself  for  many  years  preaching  from  the  same  text. 
My  close  acquaintance  with  Froebel's  theory,  and  es- 
pecially with  his  root-idea,  is  comparatively  recent.  But 
when  I  had  studied  it  as  a  theory,  and  witnessed  some- 
thing of  its  practice,  I  could  not  but  see  at  once  that  1 
had  been  throughout  an  unconscious  disciple,  as  it  were, 
of  the  eminent  teacher.  The  plan  of  my  own  course  of 
lectures  on  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education  was,  in 
fact,  constructed  in  thought  before  I  had  at  all  grasped 
the  Froebelian  idea;  and  was,  in  that  sense,  independent 
of  it.  But  every  one  who  hears  my  lectures— which  are 
founded  on  the  natural  history  of  the  child — must  be  at 
once  aware  that  Froebel's  notions  and  mine  are  virtually 
the  same.* 
*  Bee  First  Lectui-e,  page  17. 


278  FRfEBEL    AND    THE    KINDERGARTEN. 

The  Kindergarten  is  gradually  making  its  way  in 
England,  without  the  achievement  as  yet  of  any  eminent 
success;  but  in  Switzerland,  Holland,  Italy,  and  the 
United  States,  as  well  as  in  Germany,  it  is  rapidly 
advancing.  Wherever  the  principles  of  education,  as 
distinguished  from  its  practice,  are  a  matter  of  study 
and  earnest  thought,  there  it  prospers.  Wherever,  as 
in  England  for  the  most  i)art,  the  practical  alone  is  con- 
sidered, and  «here  teaching  is  thought  to  be  "as  easy 
as  lying,"  any  system  of  education  founded  on  i>sycho- 
logical  laws  must  be  tardy  m  its  progress. 

I  should  be  glad  to  think  that  I  have  by  tliis  lecture 
either  kindled  an  interest  hitherto  uiifelt  in  the  Kinder- 
garten, or  supplied  those  who  felt  the  interest  before, 
with  arguments  to  justify  it. 


FRffiBEL  AND  THE  KINDERSARTEN.-ANALYSIS, 


I.  Frubel's  Peculiar  Place  aniong  Educators 254 

1 .  His  work  at  the  foundation  instead  of  superstructure. 254 

2.  His  laws  derived  from  nature  of  tlie  child 254 

3.  The  first  to  utilize  what  was  thought  an  obstacle 255 

II.  His  Personal  History 255 

1.  Childhood  and  youth: 

{a)  No  home  training 255 

{b)  Educated  himself  through  nature 256 

(c)   At  school  learned  little  but  arithmetic _..-256 

{d)  His  life  as  a  forester 257 

ie)   At  the  University  of  Jena 257 

2.  Manhood: 

{a)  From  architect  to  teacher 258 

(6)  Two  years  with  Pestalozzi 259 

(c)   More  University  life    __259 

(rf)  His  later  career  and  death 270 

LX  Apprehends  the  divinity  of  science... ...259 

III.  His  first  Kindergarten  at  Blankenburg 260 

1.  Principles: 

(«)  Children  to  be  cultured  like  plants 260 

{b)   A  real  garden  attached  to  the  school 260 

(c)  A  Kindergarten  not  to  be  called  a  School 260 

a  Meant  for  children  from  3  to  7 260 

fi  None  of  the  usual  instruction ..261 

{d)  The  mother  to  yield  to  the  Kindergarten 261 

a   Experience  of  the  family  circle  too  narrow 262 

(5  Mothers  generally  unqualified .262 

y  Children  need  to  be  assembled... 262 

IV.  The  Central  Idea  of  Ms  system 263 

His  observation  of  children  at  plav 263 

279 


280  FRUiBEL    AXD    THE    KIXDEKGARTEX. 

Their  enjoyment  of  exercise -  -264 

Their  effective  language 264 

Their  curiositj'' 264 

Their  recognition  of  the  rights  of  others 264 

His  interpretation  of  what  he  observed 265 

Immense  development  of  energy .265 

Activity  the  common  characteristic ..- 265 

Spontaneity  both  the  impulse  and  the  law... .265 

Happiness  from  this  spontaneity  and  activity ...265 

This  happiness  dependent  on  the  activity... .265 

That  they  enjoy  what  they  do  for  themselves .266 

His  definition  of  Play 266 

The  appropriate  occupation  of  the  child 266 

The  constituted  means  for  unfolding  powers 267 

Play  resolves  itself  into  education 267 

Primary  education  must  be  Organized  Play 268 

Children  delight  in  movement 368 

They  use  their  senses 269 

They  observe,  but  imperfectly 269 

They  invent  and  construct 569 

V.   Means  for  jyutUng  the  idea  into  practice .270 

The  preliminary  scarlet  ball 272 

Notions  of  color,  form,  motion,  action,  etc 272 

Practice  in  use  of  language 272 

The  First  Gift:  six  woollen  balls 273 

Laws  of  similarity  and  discrimination 273 

Sensation  and  perception  developed 273 

The  Second  Gift:  sphere,  cube,  and  cylinder 273 

Hardness  and  softness. 273 

Shape,  space,  time,  motion 273 

Foundation  laid  for  mathematics — 273 

The  Third  Gift:  a  large  cube  divided 273 

The  whole  and  its  parts 274 

Imagination  and  construction. 274 

Fourth,  Fifth,  and  Sixth  Gifts,  etc... -274 

VI.  Ohjections  to  Fnebel's  Method 275 

That  too  much  is  demanded  of  children 275 


ANALYSIS.  281 

But  it  is  all  based  on  spoutaneity 275 

The  self-taught  child  not  overburdened 376 

That  some  children  are  stupid..- 276 

Not  if  they  can  play 276 

That  they  have  no  memory 276 

But  they  remember  things  out  of  school 277 

VII.  Fmbel's  Method  is  Mr.  Payne's 278 


THK  SCHOOL,  BULLETIN  PUBLICATIONS. 


Helps  in  Language  Teaching. 

1.  Normal  language  I/essous:  being  the  instruction  in 
Grammar  given  at  the  Corthind  State  Normal  School.  By  Prof.  S. 
J.  SoKNBEKGEK.    16nio,  boarcls,  pp.  81.    50  cts. 

Whatever  text-book  the  teaclier  uses,  or  if  lie  uses  no  text- 
book at  all,  he  will  find  this  manual  of  great  assistance.  Its 
classification  is  simple,  its  definitions  are  careful,  its  tabular 
analyses  are  complete,  and  its  reference  by  paye  to  all  the  best 
authors  makes  it  invaluable. 

3.    Exercises    in    Analysis    and    Parsing.    By   Mary   A. 

RiPLKY,  teacher  of  Grammar  in  the  Central  High  School,  Buffalo. 
16mo,  boards,  pp.  103.    40  cts. 

The  value  of  such  a  work  depends  entirely  upon  the  character 
of  its  selections.  That  these  have  been  gathered  with  rare  skill  is 
testified  by  the  continued  use  of  this  book  in  a  majority  of  the 
Regents"  schools  of  New  York. 

3.  The  Regents'  Questions  in  Grammar,  from  the  begin- 
ning to  June,  188-i.  By  Daniel  Pratt,  Assistant  Secretary. 
16mo,  pp.  109,  manilla,  25  cts. 

This  unequalled  series  of  questions  is  recognized  throughout 
(he  the  country  as  the  best  drill-book  ever  made,  and  the  only 
satisfactory  preparation  for  examination. 

An  edition  of  these  Questions,  with  complete  answers,  and 
references  to  the  grammais  of  Brown,  Murray,  Greene,  Clark, 
Kerl,  Quackenbos,  Weld  &  Quackenbos,  Hart,  Fowler,  Swinton, 
Reed  &  Kellogg,  and  Whitney,  will  be  sent  post  paid  to  any 
address  an  receipt  of  One  Dollar.  It  contains  198  pages,  and  is 
liandsomely  bound  in  cloth. 

4.  Dime  Question  Hook  No.  14,  Grammar.  By  ALBERT 
P.  SouTHWiCK.    l6mo,  paper,  pp.  35.    Pi-ice  10  cents. 

This  is  one  of  the  best  books  in  a  deservedly  popular  seriesi 
giving  full  answers  to  every  question,  with  notes,  queries,  etc. 
Conductor  John  Kennedy  says:  "  The  bad  question  book  fosters 
cram;  the  good  one  suggests  study.  Mr.  Southwick's  system  is 
good.  It  is  happy  and  nourishing.  I  hope  you  may  sell  a  million 
of  them." 

C.  W.  BARDEEN,  Pub.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 


THK  SCHOOI.  BUI.I.KTIN  PUBI.T CATIONS. 


Helps  in  Teaching  Literature. 

1.    A  Series    of    Questions    in  English  and  American 

Iiiterature,  prepared  for  class  drill  and  private  study  by  MARy 
F.  llKNDiticK,  teacher  in  the  State  Normal  School,  Cortland,  N. 
Y.    I61UO.  boards,  pages  100,  interleaved.    35  cents. 

Tills  edition  is  especially  prepared  for  taking  notes  in  tlie 
literature  class,  and  may  be  used  in  connection  with  any  text-book 
or  under  any  instruction. 

54.  Early  English  ]l,iterature,  from  the  Lay  of  Beowulf  to 
Edmund  Spenser.  By  Wm.  B.  Harlow,  instructor  in  the  High 
School,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.    16  mo,  cloth,  pp.  138.    Price  75  cents. 

This  handsome  volume  gives  copious  extracts  from  all  leading 
authors,  of  sufficient  length  to  afford  a  fair  taste  of  their  style, 
while  its  biographical  and  critical  notes  give  it  rare  value. 

3.  Dime  Question  Book  No.  2,  General  Literature,  and 
No.  13,  American  Literature,  by  Albert  P.  SouTHWiCK. 
16nio,  paper,  pp.  35,  39.    Price  10  cents  each. 

These  are  among  the  most  interesting  books  in  the  series, 
abounding  in  allusion  and  suggestion,  as  well  as  giving  full 
answers  to  every  question.  They  afford  a  capital  drill,  and  should 
be  used  in  every  class  as  a  preparation  for  examination. 

4.  How  to  Obtain  the  Greatest  Value  from  a  Book.  By 

the  Kev.  R.  W.  Lowrie.     8vo,  pp.  12.    Price  25  cents. 

No  one  can  read  this  essay  without  pleasure  and  profit. 

5.  The  Art  of  Questioning.  By  JOSHUA  G.  FiTCH.  16mo, 
paper,  pp.  36.   15  cts. 

Mr.  Fitch,  one  of  Her  Majesty's  inspectors  of  schools,  now 
recognized  as  the  ablest  of  English  writers  on  education,  owed  his 
early  reputation  to  this  address,  the  practical  helpfulness  of 
which  is  everywhere  acknowledged. 

6.  The  Art  of  Securing  Attention.  By  Joshua  G.  Fitch. 
16mo,  paper,  pp.  43.    15  cts. 

The  Maryland  School  Journal  well  says:  "  It  is  itself  an  exem- 
plification of  the  problem  discussed,  for  the  first  page  Axes  the 
attention  so  i  hat  the  reader  never  wearies  till  he  comes  to  the  last 
and  then  wishes  tliat  the  end  had  not  come  so  soon." 

C.  W.  BARDEEN,  Pub.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 


THE  SCHOOL,  BULLETIN  PUBLICATIONS. 


The  Best  Books  for  Teachers. 

standard,    Uniform,   Practical. 

I.  Common  School  Law.  A  digest  of  Statute  and  common  law 
as  to  the  relations  of  tlie  Teacher  to  the  Pupil,  the  Parent,  and  tlie 
District.  With  400  references  to  legal  decisions  in  21  different 
States.  To  which  are  added  the  1400 questions  given  at  the  first 
seven  New  York  Examinations  for  State  Certificates.  7th  thou- 
sand.   Cloth,  12  mo,  PI).  188  and  Appendix.    Price  50  cents. 

An  hour  to  each  of  the  seven  ciiapters  of  this  little  book  will 
make  the  teacher  master  of  any  legal  difficulty  that  may  arise; 
while  Ignorance  of  it  puts  him  at  the  mercy  of  a  rebellious  pupil 
an  exacting  parent,  or  a  dishonest  trustee. 

II.  Buchham's  Hand-Books  for  Young  Teachers.  No.  1, 
First  Stei'S.    Cloth,  ](5nio,  pp  152.    Price  75  cts. 

This  manual  thoroughly  and  conijvletely  covers  a  ground  not  yet 
trodden.  It  is  simple,  it  is  practical,  it  is  suggestive,  it  is  wonder- 
fully minute  in  detail;  in  short,  it  anticipates  all  the  difficulties 
likely  to  be  encountered,  and  gives  the  beginner  the  counsel  of  an 
older  friend. 

III.  DcGraff's  School  Room  Guide,  embodying  the  instruc- 
tion given  by  the  author  at  Teachers'  Institutes  in  New  York  and 
other  States,  and  esjjecially  intended  to  assist  Public  School 
Teachers  in  the  practical  work  of  the  school -room.  Tenth  edition 
with  many  additions  and  corrections.    Cloth,  12mo,  pp.  449.    $1.50 

This  book  bears  the  same  relation  to  modern  teaching  that  Page's 
Theory  and  Practice  bore  to  the  teaching  of  thirty  years  ago.  It 
is  in  every  way  a  Complete  Manual,  invaluable  and  indispensable. 

IV.  Primary  Helps.  Being  No.  l  of  a  new  series  of  Kinder- 
garten Manuals:  by  W.  N.  Hailmann,  A.  M.,  editor  of  The  Kind- 
ergarten Messenger  and  the  New  Education.  Large  8  vo,  pp.  58, 
with  15  full -page  illustrations.    Price  75  cents. 

In  these  days,  no  teacher  can  afford  to  be  ignorant  of  "  The  New 
Education,"  based  on  the  great  principal  of  directing  instead  of 
repressing  the  activity  of  childhood.  As  is  well  remarked  by  the 
New  Eiiylaiid  Journal  of  Educatio7i,~"The  general  princii)les  here 
laid  down  have  been  applied  in  many  public  schools  but  the 
method  has  never  before  been  thoroughly  systematized  and  per- 
fected." 

V.  Huglie's  Mistake  in  Teaching.  American  edition,  with 
contents  and  index.    Cloth,  16mo,  pp.  135.    Price  50  cts. 

Superintendents   frequently  choose    this    book  for  their   less 
thoughtful  teachers,   assured  that  its  pungent  style  and  chatty 
treatment  will  arrest  their  attention  and  produce  gootl  results. 
Any  of  ilic  above  sent  post-paid  on  icceipl  of  the  price. 

C.  W.  BARDEEN,  Publisher, 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 


The  Regents'  Questions. 


Since  186fi  the  lleuents  of  the  state  of  New  York  have  held  ex- 
aminations three  iinies  ;i  year  in  all  the  Academies  and  Academic 
Departments  of  the  Union  Schools,  granting  certilicates  to  such 
pupils  as  pass  satisfactorily,  and  a|)i)ortioiiin.!j:  upon  these  certifi- 
cates a  large  sum  of  money  among  the  schools  of  the  State.  As 
pupils  begin  the  study  of  the  higher  branches  after  passing  this 
examination,  the  (ptestions  are  made  to  embrace  all  that  is  prac- 
tical in  the  above  branches.  In  all  these  9, 000  questions  not  a 
sing\e  unimportant  or  "catch"  question  can  be  found.  They  are 
now  used  as  text-books  in  many  of  the  leading  schools  of  the 
country.  Cornell  University,  and  most  other  colleges,  recognizing 
their  practical  character, now  admit,  without  any  further  examin- 
ation upon  these  subjects,  i)ui)ilswho  have  i)asse(i  an  examination 
upon  these  (piestions.  Students  must  pass  these  examinations 
before  they  are  admitted  to  Teachers'  Classes  in  Academies,  and 
by  the  new  rules  of  the  New  York  Court  of  Appeals,  applicants 
lor  examination  or  for  clerkship,  shall  if  not  college  graduates, 
first  pass  one  of  these  examinations. 

The  following  ELEVEN  EDITIONS  are  published: 

1.  The  Eegents'  Questions  in  Arithmetic,  Geography,  Gram- 

mar and  Spelling,  complete  with  Keys  to  the  Aritlnnetic, 
Geography  and  Grammar  Questions,  16mo,  cloth .•J2.00 

2.  The  Regents'  Questions  in  Arithmetic,  Geography.Grain- 

mar  and  Spelling,  Complete,  cloth 1.00 

3.  The  Regents'  Questions  in  Arithmetic,  manilla,  cloth  back. .     .25 

4.  Key  to  the  same,  manilla,  cloth  back 25 

5.  The  same,each  on  slip  of  card-board  in  box,  with  key 1.00 

6.  The  Regents' Questions  in  Geography,  manilla,  cloth  back    .25 

7.  Key  to  the  same,  manilla,  cloth  back 25 

8.  The  Regents' Questions  in  Grammar,  manilla,  cloth  back    .25 

9.  The  Regents'  Questions  in  Grammar,  with  Key,  unth  refer- 

ences tipon  every  point  to  all  the  leading  text  hooks  now  in 
use,  thus  forming  a  Comparative  English  Grammar, 
cloth 1.00 

10.  The  Key  to  the  Grammar  without  the  questions,  manilla, 

cloth  back 

11.  The  Regents'  Questions  in  Spelling  manilla,  cloth  back 25 

The  questions  for  the  Regents'  Higher  Examinations  have  never 
been  published,  the  Regents  forbidding  it.  Instead  we  have  issued 
tlie  Dime  Question  Books,  with  full  answers,  covering  all  the 
ground  required.    Special  circulars  sent  upon  application. 

Any  of  the  above  will  be  sent  by  mail,  post-paid,  on  receipt 
of  the  prices  annexed. 

Address, 

C.  W.  BARDEEN,  Publisher, 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 


THE  SCHOOL  BULLETIN  PUBLICATIONS. 


Dime  Series  of  Question  Books, 

With  Fdl  Answers,  Notes,  Ciueries,  Etc.,  by  A.  P.  South-Trick. 


Elementary  Series. 

3.  Physiology. 

4.  Theory  and  Practice. 

6.  U.  S.  History  and  Civil  Gov't. 
10.  Algebra. 

13.  American  Literature. 

14.  Grammar. 

15.  Orthograph  and  Etymology. 

18.  Arithmetic. 

19.  Physical  and  Political  Geog. 

20.  Reading  and  Punctuation. 


Advanced  Series. 

1.  Physics. 

2.  General  Literature. 
5.  General  History. 

7.  Astronomy. 

8.  Mythology. 

9.  Rhetoric. 

11.  Botany. 

12.  Zoology. 

16.  Chemistry. 

17.  Geology. 


PRICE  TEN  CENTS  EACH. 


The  immense  sale  of  the  Regents'  Questions  in  Arithmetic,  Geog- 
raphy, Grammar,  and  Spelling  has  led  to  frequent  inquiry  for  similar 
questions  in  advanced  subjects.  To  meet  this  demand,  we  have  had 
prepared  this  series  of  Question  Books,  which,  compared  with  the 
many  books  of  the  sort  already  published,  presents  the  following 
advantages : 

1.  Economy. — The  teacher  need  purchase  books  only  on  the  subjects 
upon  which  special  help  is  needed.  Frequently  a  SI. 50  book  is  bought 
for  the  sake  of  a  few  questions  in  a  single  study.  Here  the  studies  may 
be  taken  uji  one  at  a  time,  a  special  advantage  in  JS'ew  Yorh,  since 
applications  for  State  Certifl^ates  may  now  present  themselves  for 
examination  in  only  part  of  the  subjects,  and  receive  partial  certifi- 
cates to  he  exchanged  for  full  certificates  when  all  the  branches 
have  been  passed.  The  same  plan  is  very  gererally  pursued  by  county 
superintendents  and  commissioners  who  are  encourageing  their  teach- 
ers to  prepare  themselves  for  higher  certificates. 

2.  Thoroughness.— Each  subject  occupies  from  32  to  40  pages,  care- 
fully compiled,  and  referring  to  the  leading  text  books.  The  questions 
in  large  type  compare  in  number  with  those  given  in  other  Question 
Books,  while  liesides  these  there  are  many  notes,  queries,  and  practical 
hints,  tlmtfiU  the  learner's  mirul  with  suggestions  to  further  investi- 
gation and  personal  tltmight  upon  the  subject.  In  this  particular 
these  Questi07i  Books  escape  the  .severe  critisism  that  has  hem 
passed  upon  the  mere  Cramming -Books. 

3.  Utility. — The  Dime  Question  Books  are  printed  in  three  sizes  of 
type,  carefully  distinguishing  which  is  most  essential,  that  the  teacher 
who  has  but  little  time  may  concentrate  it  upon  salient  points,  and 
afterward  fill  in  the  interesting  but  less  important  matter  at  leisure. 
The  handsome  page  and  the  clear  type  add  much  to  the  attractiveness 
of  the  series. 

The  Entire  Series  is  now  ready.  Each  sent  Post-paid  for  10  cts. 
Each  Series  of  Ten  in  one  book,  cloth  bound,  SI. 50. 

Address,  C.  W.  BARDEEN,  Publisher,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 


TO  PRINCIPALS  OF  ACADEMIES  AND 
UNION  SCHOOLS. 

For  the  Regents'  examiuations  we  now  prepare  five 
forms  of  Examination-paper,  all  printed  from  new  plates, 
and  with  some  changes  suggested  by  the  board  of  Regents. 

PRICES  PER  REAM. 
Note.— All  the  paper  weighs  fourteen  pounds  per  ream  of  480  full 
sheets,  but  is  put  up  iu  reams  of  480  half  sheets,  weighing- 
seven  pounds.  Please  specify  tne  letter,  in  orderini;;.  NO 
ORDERS  FILLED  EXCEPT  FOR  EVEN  REAMS.  Even 
schools  which  have  but  two  or  three  scholars  to  try  will  find 
it  profitable  to  keep  a  ream  on  hand.  So  much  less  attention 
as  to  the  form  of  the  paper  is  required  of  the  scholar  that  he 
can  give  his  undivided  attention  to  answering  the  questions 
It  is  now  the  practice  of  many  of  the  best  schools  to  put  the 
scholars  intending  to  try,  through  one  complete  examination 
with  questions  given  at  a  previous  time,  using  this  paper,  and 
having  all  the  formalities  complied  with.  This  gives  the- 
scholars  confidence,  and  precludes  the  nervousness  which  is 
often  fatal  to  success. 

B.  All  printed,  for  Arithmetic,  Geography, 

or  Grammar $2.25 

C.  All  printed  and  numbered  for  Spelling, 

as  per  sample 2.50 

D.  37  sheets  Spelling  printed  and  num- 

bered, 
185    sheets    Arithmetic,    Geography, 

Grammar,  printed,  > 

258    sheets    Arithmetic,    Geography, 

Grammar,  not  printed, 
480  sheets  complete  for  37  pupils  j    2.00 

The  last  form  is  preferred  by  nine-tenths  of  the  schools  purchasing,, 
and  we  recommend  it  as  the  cheapest  and  most  satisfactory.  The 
sheets  printed  on  the  back  are  used  only  for  the  last  sheet  in  each  ex- 
ercise, usually  the  second  in  Arithmetic  and  Geography  and  the  third 
in  Grammar. 

E.  The  same  as  D.  except  that  all  the 
sheets  in  Arithmetic,  Grammar,  and 
Geography  are  printed  upon  the  back..  2.40 

F.  All  printed,  for  the  Advanced  Examina- 
tions only 2.25 

C.  W.  BAKDEEN,  Pub.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

bi  Alii  IlUxHiViAL  5UHUUL 


LOB  ^M 


UCLA-Young   Research   Library 

LB875.P29   12 

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L   009   578   688   5 

..[{SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001252  590   3 


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